


The Dark Queen (An Eric & Sookie Story, Sequel to 'Piece of Glass')

by Galadriel72



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, True Blood, sookie - Fandom
Genre: F/M, New Orleans, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Voodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel72/pseuds/Galadriel72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric and Sookie return from Sweden when a gruesome ritual murder at Fangtasia forces Pam to shut down the club. Eric's murder investigations lead him to New Orleans, where a dark force even beyond his control rises to power. Sequel to Piece of Glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The Dark Queen**

**By Deborah Court**

**  
**

**Prologue**

**  
**

Deep down below the world, in a place long forgotten, a sinister, old power awakened. It reared its ugly head and sniffed the moldy air, blindly searching for something in the heart of the darkness where it dwelled. Feeling an instant, excruciating hunger, the thing tried to scream out with pain, yet only uttered dry, croaking sounds of desperation. It had slept for a very long time and, without nourishment, its senses didn't work properly. Writhing and cringing with need, it didn't even know what it was that it so urgently craved. But after a while, the presence began to feel that something was moving outside, far above the vault where its corpse had been rotting for over a century.

There were beings moving up there in the light, on the other side of the thick walls that surrounded the prison of this presence. Living, breathing creatures. The thing felt a sudden overwhelming hate that returned to its mind like an old friend. It could hear them suck in the air greedily, so determined to continue with their worthless lives. It also heard the steady thump, thump, thump of the hearts that pumped the essence of life through their breakable bodies. The presence began to shiver with anticipation as it imagined how it would rip those delicious organs right out of the creatures' bodies with its sharp claws. It would eat their hearts and indulge in the taste of their living bowels, drinking their warm, red blood while they were still dying and watching.

Unexpectedly, a single ray of light broke through a crack in the old walls, and lighted up a small spot on the floor, not far from the place where the thing meandered on the floor like a blind, dried-out snail. It tried to get to the light, instinctively moving towards the seductive source of energy. Choked, agonized moans came from its throat and echoed in the emptiness of the vault. A trail of slime and decay was left on the floor where the thing had crawled. Finally it reached its goal and raised a trembling, withered hand into the sunbeam, bathing in the glorious warmth of the light.

It was back, soon to rise to power again. And this time, it would kill them all.

 

 

**Chapter One**

**  
**

In all of his dead and undead life, Eric Northman had never been as happy as during those last few days in Öland. Finally Sookie was his, as he had always wished. It was a relief to know that she was safe with him on this Swedish island, where there was not much else to do but make love and wander along the beaches at night, the Baltic Sea lapping at their bare feet while they went for long walks, hand in hand. Often they were just talking to each other, silly, useless tales of times long gone. Usually, he only spoke when there was something meaningful or necessary to say, but Sookie seemed to have changed many of his habits since he'd met her for the first time.

Walking along the sand, he would have imagined that he'd be the one to do most of the talking. After all, he'd lived a very long life in comparison to hers, and had many stories to tell. She couldn't hear enough of his memories of times that had already vanished into the fogs of the past, and people he had met along the way.

But his Sookie wasn't as inexperienced as she looked, either. Although she had never traveled very far from Bon Temps, she had gained much knowledge simply by listening to other humans' thoughts – involuntarily, most often. He never grew tired of listening to her when she told him how disappointed she was about most people's indifference toward others, their selfishness and lack of compassion, or how surprised she occasionally was when she found kindness in those from whom she'd never expected it. And it made him genuinely happy to know that she thought about him the same way; that she saw something good in him. He didn't even know why. He had never cared about others' opinions, especially not what humans thought of him. Yet he wanted her to believe in him, despite all that he had been and done. He couldn't change his past, and he wasn't really sure he would if he'd had the choice.

Now everything seemed to have changed. The fact that Sookie had brought him back from death's threshold had awoken something new within his soul, a deep, constant flow of emotions he had kept locked away for such a long time. He knew that this was his chance of a new beginning, with his precious fairy – who had redeemed him with her unconditional love – at his side. As long as she loved him, believed in the good in him, anything seemed to be possible. And he loved her back with a depth that only his age could bring; at her own tender age, she never could comprehend how much she meant to him.

If their bond, and anything else they shared, was so strong after just a few moments in time, he hoped to find out how their love would grow after being together for many years. That reminded him of something he needed to talk about with her when the opportunity arose. Although it wasn't really necessary so soon, his mind already wandered off to an uncertain future. Their only chance of being together forever was if he turned her into a vampire. This decision would also solve her most significant problem – that of every other vampire she met craving her blood, eventually killing her – for good.

But it had to be her own choice, and he didn't want to put pressure on her, after all she had gone through to save him. He hoped that she'd come to him and ask him one day, but he wasn't so sure when this would happen, and if she wished to be a vampire, at all. If not, he'd be perfectly happy to stay at her side for as long as her life would last – probably he could prolong it by feeding his blood to her on a regular basis -, as long as she didn't expect him to live on afterwards. He'd never be able to endure a life without her at his side anymore.

As a vampire, she would be a magnificent creature, even if she had never seemed so lovely to him as she did right now, at this moment. She was strolling along beside him, holding his hand and chattering about sweet nothings while he was lost in his own thoughts.

Suddenly a shiver ran through him, and he stopped in his tracks. Sookie came to a halt beside him and watched him anxiously, a worried look on her face. Since he had come so close to dying, she often fussed around him like a mother hen who was trying to protect her fledgling. Even his small sign of discomfort seemed to worry her. "What is it, Eric?" she asked, her dark eyes scanning him for anything amiss.

"Nothing," he murmured, trying not to upset her when there was no evidence that anything was wrong. Just for a second, he had felt that Pam was in distress, but the feeling had soon faded. He assumed that whatever the problem was had dissolved quickly, for his progeny seemed to have calmed down already.

Her obvious concern was ridiculous, considering that he was one of the oldest and strongest creatures she had ever met, and she only a wisp of a woman, weak enough for him to snap every single bone in her body with a simple move of his hand. But her love felt incredible, engulfing him completely. Her mere presence warmed his old soul like the sun that gave his wheat fields their golden glow during the day – a sun that he probably would never see again.

Not that he really needed it anymore, now that Sookie was his.

"Let's go back to the farm. You had some plans for the rest of the night, didn't you?" he said.

Sookie smiled happily when she saw that there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her favorite vampire.

"Yes," she said, teasing him with the naughty half-smile that was so typical for his very own fairy. "I'd like us to engage in some human activities together. Over the last weeks I've been learning a lot about life on a farm while you slept during the day."

He turned her around and pulled her right into his arms, lowering his head. "Isn't this human enough for you?" he said, brushing his lips over hers before he deepened the kiss, coaxing her into opening her mouth for his exploring tongue. Her sigh gave him just the answer he wanted, and he swept her up into his arms to carry her all the way back to the farm.

 

*****

 

 

 

**© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes _only_.**

**Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.**

**xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah**

**Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com**


	2. Chapter 2

"The barn, Eric," Sookie said when they had reached the several buildings that formed the farm, closely huddled together among fields of wheat, corn and golden rows of rape-seed. Eric had a housekeeper and workers who tended to the fields and the animals, but they were instructed to leave before sundown and too well-paid to ask questions. Every evening, when Sookie watched the fields glowing like a deep yellow sea under the downing sun, she felt sad that Eric, who would wake only moments later, never saw them. She wondered if she could give him her blood so he could step out into the light for a few minutes and share this beautiful sight with her. But when he slept in his huge secret bedroom below the main house, it was almost impossible to wake him.

He had built a human bedroom above ground that was connected to his own through a hidden hatch under the wooden floorboards. The room was decorated much like her house in Bon Temps. After a while Sookie realized that he had arranged this months ago, always so sure that she'd be his one day. She wondered if there were rooms waiting for her in all of his houses, which she didn't even know about yet. She used her room only by day when she was awake because she couldn't bear sleeping without him.

Late at night, when she wasn't able to keep her eyes open anymore, she lay down with him in his huge four-poster bed and fell asleep, feeling incredibly safe and loved. Eric would wrap her up in her blanket so she wouldn't feel cold, then draw her close into his arms, holding her thus until she slept. When she awoke late in the morning, her vampire rested deeply, his large body still wrapped around her like a shield. Since she wasn't able to push him away by herself, she had to wriggle her way down along his body to escape his strong embrace. In his sleep, his face looked young and almost boyish, not betraying his age and power.

Although she knew that he didn't feel cold, she had started to make it her daily custom to cover him up with the blanket. He used to sleep naked, and she liked him wrapped up nice and tight, even tucking in the blanket around him. Eric had been astounded to wake up like this after their first day on the farm. When he'd asked her why she'd covered him up, Sookie had simply shrugged and told him that it was a human thing to do. Since then, she had done this every morning, and he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he had even complained when she'd forgotten it once. Sometimes, she wondered if his body would feel warm to her if she was a vampire, too. But then, she quickly thought of something else, not wanting to ponder on this now.

It was just like his habit of carrying her around everywhere. Sometimes he even threw her up into the air a few times and caught his shrieking human again, chuckling with glee. "I'm not a child, Eric!" she had once protested, but he had just placed her on her feet and continued taking her up in his arms later, claiming that he liked her to be as close to his body as possible. "It's a vampire thing," he had added, grinning. "You have enough other opportunities to work your muscles, my little plaything. I want you to be well-rested when I'm making love to you for hours and hours."

He still managed to make her blush at times.

"Set me down," said Sookie when they entered the large barn, stacked with hay. "Would you like me to remove my shirt and stack the hay for you so you can admire my body?" he said, grinning when he saw from her facial expression that he had read her thoughts. The idea had indeed crossed her mind, but she had other plans tonight.

"No," she growled. She knew that he was only joking, but sometimes this vampire was a bit too sure of himself. "Set me down. I need you to carry a sack of flour for me," she added, gesturing to a pile of heavy linen sacks that were neatly in a corner. Take it to the kitchen."

He dropped her into the hay and bowed slightly before her, mockingly. "I have no idea what you intend to do with a sack of flour in the middle of the night, but I'm your humble slave, lovely human." With that, he shouldered one of the heavy sacks with ease, and walked off, heading towards the main house.

Entering the kitchen, Sookie noticed again how much this place looked like Eric's farm in his memories, the one she had seen when she had followed him into his near-death vision and brought him back from the brink of death. Instead of the stone hearth of the Viking kitchen, a huge oak table dominated the room, long enough to seat twenty persons. It gave the house a rustic look while the wooden paneling along the walls hid all kinds of high-tech kitchen devices.

Eric dropped the sack to the floor beside the table. He threw Sookie a questioning glance and leaned back against the sideboard that stored the dishes. Sookie heated a bottle of True Blood in the microwave and handed it to him. He took a sip but with a look on his face as if he had just drunk poison.

"Since I tasted your blood, this brew has become intolerable," he admitted. "Only a few drops of you help me regenerate far more quickly, and the way you taste …" A dreamy expression came over his face, and he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the memory of her sweet blood. Instantly his fangs popped out, and Sookie felt her knees go weak. She had recently discovered that they weren't like human teeth at all, but highly sensitive and that it drove him wild if she ran her tongue over them – which was exactly what she did now. She simply couldn't resist.

Suddenly he kissed her, the bottle of True Blood abandoned on the sideboard, and claimed her mouth deeply. His groaning reminded her that he must be hungry, and she gave a slight nod of her head so he knew that she wanted him to drink from her. She deliberately pressed her tongue to one of his fangs, and the sharp tip drew a tiny line of blood. The sound he uttered was a mixture of male desire and raw need, and he sucked her tongue deeply into his mouth, devouring her like a tasty dessert. Her wound closed as quickly as it had appeared, and he broke the kiss and buried his face against her neck for a moment. She heard him breathe heavily, shivering and struggling to control himself.

"You're still hungry. Drink, beloved," she whispered and felt him pierce her soft skin. He cupped the back of her neck in his big hand and held her gently in place. His low sounds of utter satisfaction sent a red, hot desire through her body, gathering between her thighs. She was contracting and tightening with every sucking sensation, and she felt his overwhelming lust through the bond.

For the first time she realized that this was as good as sex to him, maybe even better; and as his other hand wandered down to the place where she ached and yearned for him, she almost fainted from the knowledge of how his touch would feel combined with the draining sensation. She wasn't sure how he did this, but apart from that first moment she never felt any pain while he was drinking from her, just pleasure.

Without removing his fangs from her, he sat her on top of the sideboard and stood between her legs, spreading them wide. His clever fingers found a way under her tight denim shorts, searching her core. Her new black lace slip that Eric had given to her, along with an assortment of other enticing lingerie, was already soaking wet. Then she felt him enter her with one long finger while his thumb was pressing down onto her little center of pleasure through the crude fabric of her shorts. Feeling her relax around him, he inserted a second, driving her to madness with a skilled upwards movement that made her cry out.

When he began to move his fingers simultaneously, entering, withdrawing and re-entering while teasing her with his thumb, she climaxed so violently that her body clung to his fingers, unwilling to release them. He retracted his fangs from her neck and tongued her bite marks lovingly until they healed. Finally he gently removed his hand from her and licked his fingers, all the while groaning as if he was tasting the best thing he'd ever eaten. Simply watching him nearly drove Sookie into coming again, and she nestled at the button of his jeans.

"Not yet," he said, kissing her lingeringly after he had bit his wrist to give her some of his own blood to recuperate more quickly. "There was something you wanted to show me, if I recall correctly?" His seductive smile indicated that he was interested in other activities, but loved to tease her a bit, prolonging the tension of the moment.

She glanced at him with a dazed expression before she knew what he was talking about. "Right," she said. "There's something new I've learned from Mrs Lund."

When she was awake during the daytime, she'd offered to help the elderly housekeeper with her daily chores. She didn't like the thought of being a woman of luxury; simply enjoying life at Eric's side without making herself useful made her feel like a kept woman, and she didn't want that. Besides, she was used to working, and she grew bored and restless if she didn't have anything to do but look pretty and make love to Eric, although the latter could be exhausting at times, as well.

"I'd like to show you the art of bread-making," she said, glowing with pride. She had never baked bread on her own before.

His eyes widened. "Interesting. But you know that I won't eat it, don't you?"

"I know. I just thought … I could teach you some cooking basics so you could prepare some food for me, if you'd felt like it one day."

For a moment he simply stared at her, then her Viking roared with laughter.

"The thought is not so very absurd," she said, glowering at him. "Human men do this for their women all the time." _Liar, liar, pants on fire_ , she thought.

"In none of my days has any woman asked me to cook for her," His face was unfathomable, but he seemed to be intrigued. "Or bake bread, that is. I am speechless, my fairy." He took her in his arms, before adding: "But I think I often watched the women bake bread back in my human days. There was a kitchen wench at my father's house …"

She boxed him on the chest. "Don't you dare speak of other women to me, Eric Northman!"

He grinned. "As you wish. Now show me how this bread-making is done."

"Well," said Sookie, trying to remember the ingredients. She fetched a large bowl and mixed warm water, flour from the sack, salt, sugar, oil and yeast while Eric watched attentively. When she had what looked like a pretty good dough consistency, she scooped the mixture onto the table, over a generous sprinkling of flour she'd already scattered over the wooden surface. "Now you need to knead the dough," she said, "like this …"

He watched silently for a while, enjoying the sight of her small hands working the dough. Walking over to her, he stepped behind her, closing his arms around her waist. "I like to watch you doing this," he murmured into her ear before he started kissing her neck. Sookie had braided her hair into a thick plait that hung over her shoulder, leaving the nape of her neck bare to his touch.

She shuddered with delight when his hands ran down her bare arms. The summer had been warm, and she only wore a tight tank top. He reached down between her arms and helped her to knead the dough, his hands touching hers from time to time. The sight of his strong hands sensually stroking and squeezing the soft mass inspired naughty thoughts, and she could hardly keep herself from sighing.

"This kitchen wench …" Sookie said softly. "What did you do to her?"

Eric chuckled, and his hands moved up her arms again. With a quick movement, he had removed her top and bra and proceeded by cupping her breasts, covering her with flour. "The question should be, what did she do to me?" he said, close to her ear. "I was but a youth back then. But with time, I learned some very useful things, like how a woman wants to be touched … here …"

Sookie threw back her head against his hard chest and closed her eyes while his fingers began to caress her breasts. He kneaded her just like he had done with the dough, all the time stroking her nipples and pinching them ever so slightly with every move of his fingers.

"And here …," he continued, moving one of his hands down, over her stomach and flat belly before he reached her pants, undoing them quickly so they fell to the ground. Sookie cried out softly when he found her mound and covered it with his whole big hand, then wandered deeper and started to pleasure her with his fingers. Gosh, but this man had long arms.

Within a heartbeat, he had lifted her up and laid her belly down onto the table, right into the mass of dough that was already spread out over it. Sookie screamed as the cool substance molded over her body, covering her most secret places.

"I'm going to make fairy bread," he said darkly. Then Eric started to knead the dough again, but this time all around her, along her arms and side, over her hips and right between her legs that were slightly spread for him.

She whimpered when he started to knead her heated flesh, as well; worked the whole length of her back, her arms and further down, until his fingers were kneading her soft butt. "You are one hell of a masseur, Eric," she moaned, but he didn't answer. She only heard his deep, satisfied laughter. Obviously her vampire enjoyed himself tremendously.

His fingers slid between her thighs and started to touch her in that very special place that belonged only to him. When she screamed out, he said, "And here." Then he parted her hot, moist folds, and lifted her hips slightly towards him. Suddenly she felt his tongue there, ravishing her womanhood from behind. It was an incredible feeling and astonishing to her that he was doing this upside down, slowly sliding down from her slick entrance to her tiny, throbbing nub of flesh that was begging for his attention.

Sookie moaned with pleasure, feeling like a very naughty girl because he was doing this from behind, but also close to another mind-shattering orgasm. So close … But he didn't fulfill her fondest wish; instead he quickly undressed himself. He caressed the insides of her thighs and made her spread her legs wider. "Open for me, little fairy," he said in a deep, hoarse voice. When she obliged, she felt him pressing hard and strong against the place where she longed and ached for him …

Eric's cell phone rang to the sound of Guns 'n' Roses' _Sweet Child O' Mine_ , vibrating from the pocket of his jeans that lay forgotten on the floor.

"It's Pam," he said, sighing.

"Don't you dare stop working the dough, Viking," Sookie moaned.

 

*****

 

 

© All characters are the property of **Charlaine Harris** and **True blood HBO**. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes _only_.

**Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.**

**xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah**

**Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com**


	3. Chapter 3

The cell phone rang for a few seconds and then abruptly stopped. "I feel that she's upset," Eric said, "but there is no pain or real threat. I'll call her back later."

But Sookie had already forgotten about Pam, for she felt him throbbing against her moist core. Since she lay on her front on the soft, flexible dough, it had warmed up under her heated body and almost felt like a lover's touch on her skin. Eric lifted her hips and pulled her back to the table's edge, but pressed a hand on the small of her back to make her stay down in the dough. Then she felt his long, hard shaft enter her heat, plowing through the softness of her flesh. Inch by wonderful inch he impaled her, as slowly as if he had all the time in the world.

Each time he stopped, making her believe she had taken all of him, he would then shove forward again, giving her yet more. He repeated this a few times until he had embedded himself deeply inside her, stroking her back all the while, his hand on her hip keeping her firmly in place. Giving her time to stretch around him, he continued with his sensual massage, kneading her muscles until she felt so hot she believed that the dough must be melting away under her.

Finally, he placed a big hand on her shoulder and pulled her whole body back, pressing her harder upon his manhood. Sookie cried out as he touched her deep inside, filling her to the point that the slight pain caused by his size multiplied her pleasure. When he pushed her forward and moved her back onto him a couple of times, the sweet friction made her almost come, but he stopped for a moment to draw her back from the edge.

When her breath had calmed down, he started to thrust into her with short, well-placed movements of his hips, alternating with deep, slow strokes that made her tremble with want. She was so wet that he moved inside her with ease, in and out, in and out, slowing down his movements but increasing the pressure, burying himself to the hilt. Sookie didn't mind that tears were running over her face, caused partly by unfulfilled need, but mostly by the beauty of his lovemaking. All the time he enticed her with sweet words of love, leaving no doubt that she was the one true mate he had been longing for over oceans of time.

He started to circle his hips as he moved, and she began to spasm, her body reaching the outskirts of unbelievable ecstasy. "Use your inner muscles around me, Sookie," he commanded her, bowing down over her back. "Clench and release. Clench and release. That's my girl." He covered her sensitive neck with open-mouthed kisses, then ran his tongue down her spine. Complying, Sookie worked her muscles, drawing him even deeper inside.

Suddenly, without forewarning, she came with an intensity that rushed through her body like a flash of lightning. It was impossible to cry out, even to breathe, as the blinding climax took hold of her body and made her contract around him, again and again, until she heard him groan with his own release and bite into her neck like a mating wolf, not releasing her until she was completely spent.

But her vampire wasn't.

She was still hovering on a dark, warm cloud when he flipped her over onto her back with a light-speed move and wrapped her legs around his hips. All gentleness had gone from his eyes, and what she saw in their depths was pure, primal lust. A drop of her blood still clung to one of his fangs. Unable to resist, she raised her head to lick it off. Moaning, Eric bit his own tongue and teased her into sucking at it. She savored the small stream of his blood before the tiny wound closed.

This time, he didn't coax or seduce her. He guided himself into her still-slick heat and started to pound into her with hard, fast thrusts. The dough was coated with flour so Eric made them glide along the huge table with every single thrust, loving her like a wild beast. She answered him with equal passion and pulled his head down to her lips, burying her hands in his golden hair. She drove her nails into his back, but he didn't even notice. "Harder, Eric," she whispered, "faster."

Soon they were both covered in flour. Since they had reached the other end of the table, Sookie raised her arms above her head and held on to the edge, screaming his name as he drove into her like a speed train, only stopping when he felt her come around his manhood another time. Only then he succumbed to his own climax without holding back, shoving himself a last time into her sweet, welcoming body. When he exploded deep inside of his human, he molded her into his body. Pulling her close, he felt her thundering heartbeat as if it was his own, listening happily while it gradually slowed down.

He didn't mind anymore if his own heart was beating. Sookie's heart was strong enough for them both, and his own couldn't be dead, after all; for it loved her with a passion that made him feel very much alive.

In the meantime, in Shreveport …

Pam loved her maker – in fact, so much that she had stopped her phone call when she had sensed his happiness – in the same moment she'd tried to reach him. Doubtless he was with Sookie, especially since he was horny, too. Pam had quickly hidden her emotions from him. She had learned this rare ability as she had grown older and stronger. Sometimes she wondered if Eric had noticed, but she guessed not. If he really wanted to know something she thought or felt, he simply commanded her, as her maker, to tell him the truth, and she couldn't deny him. But if he didn't give her a direct order, she managed to shield her mind from him on occasions.

The truth was that she'd been ready to live apart from Eric for years, but she'd never asked him to set her free. Although she loved her maker, Pam liked being on her own, and she longed for adventure. Yet she knew that he had always liked her at his side, craving for companionship, and he cared for her like a father would – more than her human father had ever loved her. However, they weren't made for each other, or they would have been truly bonded love mates long ago. But she knew about his loneliness, felt how empty he was inside. She didn't have the heart to ask him to release her, even if he wouldn't have denied her that.

Since he was with Sookie, all of this had changed, and she sensed that he felt complete, probably for the first time in his long life. It had been almost a year since Eric had gone to Öland, taking his human with him. Although she'd never admitted it to her maker, Pam had enjoyed being on her own. She liked managing Fangtasia, and she was very capable of it. The profits had increased thirty percent during the past months, and she couldn't wait to show Eric the accounts – not that he was in need of any more money.

Pam had even managed to deal with the agents of the Authority, convincing them that Nan Flanagan had plotted against them, trying to start a mutiny. She also explained that Eric Northman, long-time Sheriff of Area Five, faithful servant to the Authority and to the king of Louisiana (it had almost killed her to vocalize that part), had eliminated Nan to prevent her from realizing her traitorous plans. She wasn't sure if they had believed her, but at least for now they had rescinded their death warrant and vanished from Fangtasia.

But now something had happened that required her maker's attention. She had no idea how to deal with this on her own. The club had been shut down for the night, and she leaned against the bar, staring at the scenario that unfolded before her eyes. She sniffed the air. The smell of blood – human, vampire and animal in origin, was overwhelming and would have driven her into a killing frenzy if she hadn't just fed well from one of her male devotees. When he had followed her into the public area of Fangtasia, the stupid fang banger had screamed like a girl and hidden behind the bar. She had used his shock to her advantage and glamored him, commanding him to forget everything he had seen, then sent him away.

She was still stunned by the audacity of this act. Who would be foolish enough to break into Eric's bar during the daytime and commit a deed so gruesome that it put even vampires to shame?

Shrugging, she flipped open her cell phone to call Eric again. This time, he picked up the phone immediately. Obviously he'd finished whatever he had been doing with his human.

"It's me – Pam," she said, the sound of her voice leaving no doubt that she wasn't in the mood for small talk. "As much as it hurts me to tell you, I fear your little fairy humpin' honeymoon is over." Sometimes she just couldn't help teasing him a bit.

She removed the phone from her ear to escape his furious, reprimanding growl. When he had finished scolding her for disrespecting Sookie, she said in earnest, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you must return, immediately – before the police come here and destroy all the evidence we've got. I'll have to report this to them soon. There has been a double murder at Fangtasia – involving a vampire and a human. As sheriff of Area Five, it is your duty to investigate the matter personally." Nodding to Eric's short reply, she hung up.

Slowly, she went over to the dance floor that was practically swimming in blood, very careful not to ruin her new Louboutin leopard-print boots. She bowed and carefully picked up a large, heavy object that was drenched in goo. She only saw what it was when some of the blood had dripped away from it.

It was a black rooster, its head cleanly cut off.

Pam cursed and threw the animal's corpse back into the unrecognizable mass of blood, vampire and human remains. She wondered who the victims were, but she didn't dare touch anything before her maker arrived.

"I hate that fucking voodoo shit," she hissed, sincerely hoping that Eric would be back soon.

****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	4. Chapter 4

Twelve hours earlier …

Fangtasia's tasteful interior was dark and unnaturally silent while it was locked up for the day. Yvetta silently closed the door to the employee entrance, grinning to herself over the vampires' stupidity. They hadn't thought about changing the code of the safety lock, but why should they suspect her of coming back? Eric had paid her royally before he threw her out, hissing at her that he'd kill her if she ever dared to enter Fangtasia again. He hadn't even bothered to compel her, assuming she was too cowardly to ever cross him again.

Well, he'd been severely mistaken.

She was smart enough to know that this place stank of money. That sonuvabitch had screwed the shit out of her, and he owed her much more than he'd given her. Although he was damn hot to look at and a magnificent fuck, she had hated every minute she'd spent in his presence. But she hated vampires, anyway – even if she liked working for them. They were great employers. Usually they were wealthy and paid much better than humans, if she let them take a sip of her blood and fuck her from time to time. It had been the same with the other vampire she had worked for undercover – the one who had sent her to Fangtasia to apply for a job as a dancer.

She had met him in a table dance bar for vampires, back in Baton Rouge. After she'd danced for him and spent a night with him in his hotel room, he had offered her a good sum for spying on his archenemy, the Sheriff of Area Five. He was particularly interested in all of Eric Northman's business activities, and in his moves towards a human woman with whom both vampires seemed to be enamored. Yvetta had seen this plain little blonde a couple of times, never understanding what a man like Eric could possibly want from her.

One night, this Sookie had disturbed Yvetta's six-hour romp with Eric in Fangtasia's basement, and at first she'd been amused by Sookie's shocked face. But then she had clearly seen raw desire flashing up in the other woman's eyes, only briefly but long enough for Yvetta to notice. Eric had simply left her hanging there, even stopping to pleasure her just because that waitress had walked in. When they talked, both were lost in each other, not even realizing anymore that she was with them in the room. After Sookie had left, Eric had completely lost interest in Yvetta and just sent her away. It had been the last time he'd had sex with her. Being dumped because of that Miss Goody Two-Shoes from Bon Temps was an affront Yvetta couldn't simply forget.

"Fucking Sookie," Yvetta murmured as she crossed the empty club, heading towards the direction of Eric's office. When she reached it, the door was locked. Cursing, she rattled at the door, but accomplished nothing. Then she remembered that there was a rack with keys behind the bar. She quickly fetched them and tried one after the other. Finally, the last one fit into the lock, and she opened the door. It was astonishing how little Eric cared about safety in his own four walls. She would have bet that he'd protect his waitress by all means; but a vampire of his age and power probably didn't imagine that someone would be bold enough to steal from him.

She started with the filing cabinet in the corner, but all she found there were earning accounts of Fangtasia, written in black ink. They were kept in neat rows, in a slightly old-fashioned, determined handwriting that looked undeniably male. Obviously Eric had an aversion to computers, a fact that didn't seem to apply to Pam, who had started to add printed-out accounts about a year ago, when Eric had suddenly vanished, just like Sookie Stackhouse.

What a coincidence.

Yvetta proceeded to Eric's desk, opening the drawers and searching them for anything that would be valuable to her vampire employer. He had been most adamant in his demands, that she should find anything at all he could use against Eric. There was some trouble with the vampires' Authority, she had not really understood but knew that the vampire who was paying her to sneak into Fangtasia one last time had been accused of something himself and now needed some evidence to get Eric booted while he got to keep his job – as vampire king of Louisiana.

Finding nothing, she crept under the table and ran her fingers along the smooth, polished mahogany, searching the wood for any discontinuity. Finally, she found a small hole and pushed her fingertip into it. She started to smile when she heard a faint click and saw a hidden compartment in the side of the table swing open. Reaching in, she retrieved a small, leather-bound notebook and several thick rolls of hundred dollar bills. She grabbed the money and stuffed it into the inside pockets of her jacket.

When she opened the notebook and scanned the pages, she knew that she had struck gold. It was clearly Eric's handwriting, and on the first page, in an elegant italic script was the simple letter "V". The other pages contained the names and addresses of several business partners, along with dates and quantities of bottles, measured in ounces, complete with earnings. She instantly knew what she had found.

She put the notebook into her handbag and emerged from beneath the table. Then she took out her cell phone and made the call that would make her a wealthy woman, if her employer kept his promise. With a bit of luck, she'd never have to work as a stripper again.

Unsurprisingly, she only heard the voice of the mailbox. Her boss was sleeping during the day, just like the other vampires. "Bill", she said, knowing he would listen to the message as soon as he awoke. "I found something you'll like very much. I think I have proof that Eric has been dealing vampire blood. You'd better grab the money you promised me and head over to the airport. My flight is departing at 10 p.m."

Shutting down her phone, Yvetta rearranged the office so that – with any luck – no one would be able to tell she'd been here. If Pam noticed her scent later, she'd already be on the plane to Vegas.

With a triumphant smile on her face, she left the office, locked it behind her and replaced the key. She had just turned to leave the bar area when a deep, harsh sound drew her attention. Gasping, she crouched down to hide, hoping that the intruder had not seen her. She wondered who it was. Maybe that annoyingly stupid barmaid, Ginger.

When she heard the strange noise again, it had changed to something else, and it was definitely not human. Whatever the thing was, it made disgusting, sucking noises, like a fish on dry land that struggled for air. Did Pam keep a watchdog during the daytime? Even if this were true, Yvetta knew that no dog could ever utter such horrible, unnatural sounds which seemed to draw nearer and nearer. She was shivering with fear now, sensing that something deadly was in the room, and had found her scent, for the snapping noises got more frequent, and … greedy-sounding. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming.

After a moment, she dared to breathe again. Silence had fallen over the vast room, and she almost laughed out with relief, telling herself that she had just been imagining things. She turned her gaze to the open end of the bar, intending to get up.

Without forewarning, a dark, slender form appeared in the opening, and Yvetta winced, a painful gasp of fear wrung from her chest. It was a tall, ebony-skinned woman, clad in a long, flowing azure dress. A turban of golden silk was wound around her head, and she wore huge golden earrings. She was beautiful in an exotic way, with huge, dark eyes that shone from a flawless face, and she held herself proudly, like a queen.

Yvetta's strange fascination only lasted for a moment, for suddenly the woman's eyes narrowed to slits and weren't dark anymore, but light green, with vertical slits as pupils. When the woman smiled, she bore a pair of sharp fangs.

The woman turned her head and said something in rapid, harsh, French, making it sound like a command. Then she stepped aside, and a huge black shadow began to creep its way into the aisle behind the bar, heading directly towards Yvetta. Eventually she was able to see the creature's face, and make out what it was.

Yvetta began to scream.

"What a mess," Eric said, staring at the obscene parody of what had once been his club. Sookie was right behind him, reaching for his hand. He took it and turned to her, his eyes dark with concern.

"Sookie, I'd really like you to stay back," he said. "Let me examine this first and make sure that there's nothing left that might put you in danger. Will you listen to me just this one time?"

"Yes," she breathed, stepping back from the pool of blood that threatened to stain her white linen slippers. She must be in shock, or why should she worry about her shoes right now? Wearing them had been a very bad idea, even if they made her tanned legs look good. On the other hand, she hadn't known what would await them here when she had changed during the flight back to Shreveport. She most definitely was glad that she still had such foolish thoughts, since they were the only thing that kept her from screaming hysterically. What she saw on the dance floor was too gruesome to bear, and she quickly looked away.

She shuddered when Eric crossed the blood-covered dance floor in his biker boots, not caring about shoes at all. He looked more like the vampire she had met here for the first time, wearing jeans, a black shirt and a leather jacket. His hair had grown while they had been on the farm, almost reaching down to his shoulders now. He had combed it back, but a wayward golden strand fell over his forehead, making her fingers ache to touch it. Every time she looked at him, he seemed to be even more beautiful to her, although she'd never admit that to him.

Pam had left them alone, to give her master time to gain his own impression of what had occurred here. Eric waded through goo and organic remains Sookie didn't even want to think about, heading to the grotesque sacrifice that had been tied to the dancing pole on the small dais.

It was Yvetta, the Estonian dancer – or what remained of her. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she was tightly bound against the pole in a mockery of her former job. Someone had slit her throat, and her body was sliced open from her chest to her navel. Her heart and several of her organs appeared to be missing, but they had not been cut out. It looked as if they'd been violently ripped from her body – by something with very sharp teeth.

"Something fed on her, eating her flesh and organs," Eric said coolly, slowly circling the body but not touching it. "But it wasn't a vampire, or she wouldn't have bled out. A vampire couldn't have restrained himself from draining her, smelling all that blood."

Sookie only now noticed that he was struggling to control himself, too. His jaw was tight, and she saw that his hands were fisted, his knuckles even whiter than the rest of his skin. A younger vampire without his powers and experience probably would have gone into a mad killing frenzy by now. Sookie winced as a thought came to her.

"Couldn't you taste her blood?" she suggested, trembling with disgust at the idea. "Wouldn't it tell you what happened to her in her final moments?" At the same time, she wished that Eric hadn't bonded with Yvetta.

He shook his head. "No. I never gave her my blood, didn't even care to taste hers more than once or twice." He threw her a backward glance. "There was another woman I was craving instead of her. She was nothing to me."

Maybe it wasn't the most sensitive thing to say in front of the dead woman's body, but Sookie's heart pounded faster as relief washed over her. When she had seen Eric in an intimate situation with his dancer, it had occurred to her that she was more beautiful than herself, more seductive … Sometimes she still wasn't sure why Eric had chosen her. But deep inside she knew that he loved her with a force she couldn't even begin to understand, and she'd never have to fear losing him to another woman. Since he had given his heart to her, it would belong to her forever.

However, at times he was simply too beautiful for her to believe that he was actually hers.

"I'm glad to hear it," she admitted.

After giving her a hint of a smile, Eric returned his attention to the examination of the body. Sookie looked away when he reached into the woman's mouth that was still opened like a silent scream, retrieving a strange-looking object. He stretched out his hand to show it to her.

"It's the rooster's claw," he said, gesturing to the dead animal that was lying near the edge of the pool, "and some herbal ingredients I can't identify. It's supposed to make the dead speak."

Sookie shivered. "What could she possibly tell us?"

Eric shrugged. "Nothing. What happened to her wasn't a real voodoo ritual. Someone only wanted it to look like a religious sacrifice, but it wasn't. It was a message, and it was directed at me. Maybe a warning, I'm not sure yet."

Sookie gasped. "Eric, this could be a trap! And who would possibly do this, just to send you a message?"

"Actually, I have no idea. But I know a vampire who might be able to tell us more about it."

"Us?" Sookie said.

"Yes, us. We'll go to New Orleans together, my lover. We both know what you would do if I told you to stay back in Bon Temps."

"Follow you anyway?" she suggested.

"Exactly," he said, returning to her. He took Sookie into his strong arms and crushed her against his chest. "And who knows what could happen to you then. I want to have you at my side, where I'll be able to protect you," he said, placing a kiss on her lips.

Sighing, she buried her face against the cool silk of his shirt. She knew that he wanted to keep her safe from harm, but he also respected her own wishes when he simply could have told her what to do. "I fear you are stuck with this human, Viking," she said, smiling.

For a long moment, he was holding her, listening to her heartbeat. Sookie felt an unfamiliar emotion through the bond. It was something like regret, almost anxiety, and he seemed to hesitate. Suddenly she knew that something was terribly wrong. Eric usually didn't behave like this.

"There's something I have to tell you, Sookie," he said finally. "I don't want to see you hurt, but I must tell you. There's another victim here, a vampire – which, as Sheriff of Area Five, makes me duty-bound to hunt down the murderer. You didn't notice since there's not much left of him. I smelled his blood the moment I entered." When he felt her stiffen with realization, he tightened his arms around her, never releasing her from his embrace.

"I am so sorry, Sookie. The other victim is … was … Bill."


	5. Chapter 5

Eric pressed Sookie close to his chest as she went rigid with shock. He wished she could feel a steady heartbeat there that might calm her down. Humans, he had often observed, seemed to be comforted by listening to each other's heartbeat, and by being enveloped in their loved one's scent, although they didn't even realize it. Knowing that vampires didn't seem to smell of anything to mortals, he was reminded painfully that he couldn't provide those natural ways to make her feel instinctively loved, and protected. He couldn't even comfort her by warming her with his body as he was well aware that he must feel lifeless and cold to her. At moments like this, he would have happily died a thousand deaths if it would have given him the chance of being human, a true mate to the woman he loved.

For a long while she was silent, her face concealed by his jacket. He wasn't sure how to interpret what he learned about her emotions through the bond. Sure, she was shocked and sad, but he didn't sense the acute wave of pain he had expected from her after losing the first man she'd been with. Probably the shock still numbed her grief over Bill's demise.

"Sookie, I am so sorry," he whispered into her hair, and after a while he added, "Forgive me."

This made her finally raise her head from his chest. As she looked up to him, he saw that her face was ashen. But there were no tears in her eyes.

"Why should I need to forgive you, Eric?" she asked. "It's not as if you had anything to do with his death."

"No, I didn't kill him," he said. "Nor would I have ever done that, knowing that I'd hurt you by harming him. But I must admit my true feelings to you."

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

To her surprise, the tall vampire dropped down on his knees in front of her and pressed his cheek to her side, circling her waist with his arms. Confused, she began to stroke his hair.

"I must tell you," he said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. "If you should choose to leave me because of it, this is the consequence I'll have to endure. But I won't lie to you, my Sookie. I'm not sorry that he's dead."

She didn't answer, but her fingers stopped caressing his hair.

"I must admit that a part of me even feels relief – the part of me that's possessive about you, more than you'll never know. My greatest fear was that one day, you might decide to go back to him, after all. I know that you once loved him. But I'd never forgiven him that he let this human blood-drainer couple beat you half to death," Eric continued calmly, although he fought against the rage that threatened to consume him. "I would have enjoyed killing him for that long ago. The only reason I didn't was that I knew it would hurt you, too. Now you see who I truly am."

She sank down to her knees until she was enclosed in the safety of his arms, hugging him back. "I love whatever you are," she whispered, softly touching his lips with hers, "and I always will." The kiss soon grew more passionate as the horror of the room took hold of her. Suddenly she wanted to feel alive desperately, unlike that pitiful body that had been a living, breathing woman just like her, not too long ago. She buried her hands in Eric's hair and opened her mouth to let him in, sighing as she yielded to his kiss.

When the door abruptly opened, Eric leapt up in the fraction of a second, pulling Sookie with him so that no one would have suspected that they had just been kneeling on the floor, kissing each other senseless.

"Look what I've found inside the shoe closet in my dressing room, Eric," Pam said, pushing a pale and shivering Ginger into the room. "I am sure that she has seen something, though I haven't been able to make her speak. Just look at her. She's half mad with fear."

"Now that's interesting," Eric said coolly. While he stepped nearer to the wide-eyed barmaid, he fixed his intense gaze on her. Ginger gave a little shriek and tried to move closer to Pam.

"Oh, I've already tried to glamor her," Pam said. "Nothing. She'll do what I say, but she's too deep in shock to speak. You're older, master. Maybe you will succeed." She waited patiently while Eric pierced Ginger with his eyes again, commanding her to speak. Ginger winced and looked at him as if he'd kill her any moment, but she didn't say a word. Eric tried for several minutes to glamor her, but it was in vain. Finally he shrugged, looking at Pam.

"I could use more pressure to force her, but in this state, her mind is too fragile. In order to protect her sanity, she might choose to simply forget the memory of the murder and lock it away in some distant corner of her mind. Then we'd never be able to learn what she has seen … or heard."

"Let me give it a try, Eric," Sookie said unexpectedly. "I think I can read her mind. Her thoughts are very confused, I only saw a few images …," she swallowed. "Terrible images. She witnessed the murder while she peeked through a gap in the door. Luckily, her survival instinct was stronger than her curiosity, and she hid in Pam's room, fearing she'd meet the same fate as …" Her eyes wandered briefly to the body on the dancing pole.

"Yvetta," Eric said, not showing any emotion. "Sit down, Ginger," he said. "And do whatever Sookie says."

The quivering blonde hurried to sit on a barstool. Sookie gently touched her temples with her fingertips to make contact. After a few seconds, she gasped and pulled her hands away.

"Eric," she whispered, "the pictures in her mind, they are horrible. I can't …"

"You don't need to do this," he said, taking her cold hand into his.

"Oh yes, she does," Pam intervened, appearing at Ginger's other side. "Do you know what the police will think when they detect this blood bath here, in a vampire's bar? Or what the press will write? This will be fuel to the fire of the Authority. They are still looking for any excuse to make an example of him. He's become far too powerful for their taste."

Sookie nodded. "I'll do it. Please try to remember, Ginger," she said softly, pressing her palms to the woman's temples again. Closing her eyes, she listened to Ginger's thoughts. In the meantime, Eric began to stride up and down behind her, furious about the fact that he couldn't do anything to save his human from the images that would haunt her in her dreams for a long time to come. Due to Sookie's fairy nature, he couldn't even glamor her to make her forget. It had been Ginger's fate to endure what she had witnessed. Now those memories belonged to Sookie as well.

Her eyes still closed, Sookie suddenly began to talk. "Ginger woke up from a nap when she heard something … a high-pitched, agonized scream. For a while she contemplated if she should leave Pam's room to look for the intruder, but she didn't dare. Finally her curiosity gained the upper hand, and she sneaked into the corridor. There was Yvetta, tied to the pole. She was already dead, her body slowly bleeding out while the dark shadow was ripping her flesh apart, feeding from her." She shuddered.

"A dark shadow?" Eric murmured. "What did it look like?"

Sookie shook her head. "I can't see it clearly. It was some kind of creature, as tall as a human, but different – it was crouching before Yvetta while it chewed at her. And it moved in a strange way, kind of blurred – just like you, when you move too quickly for me to see," she added, addressing Eric.

He looked at her, surprised. "I wonder if this creature was part vampire. This would explain the swift movements."

"Yes," Sookie said. And its skin was deep black, with a wet, disgusting shine to it. There was someone else. A dark-skinned woman with a turban. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be the one in command."

"Let me see …," said Pam sarcastically. "All the suspects we have is a woman who loves the African retro look, and her slimy giant dog whose favorite food are strippers. The Authority's agents will love to hear that. We'll be all staked before we know it."

"There's more," Sookie said, her voice grave. "A vampire entered the bar and hurried into the room while Ginger was still watching. It was Bill. When he saw Yvetta's body, the woman with the turban stepped in his way. He demanded to know what had happened here, and if she had … now this sounds strange … the notebook. Right in this moment the black creature sneaked up behind him, and … staked him." She tried not to look over to the pool of blood which held Bill's remains.

"Bill?" cried Pam. "The king is dead?" Sookie was astonished when she saw the female vampire kneel down at Eric's feet.

"What the hell …," she murmured.

"Damn," Eric moaned.

"I pledge my allegiance to you, my liege," Pam said. "You know you've always had it."

"Pam!" Eric said. "Now this isn't the right time for that! Listen to me." He grabbed Pam's elbow and pulled her up to face him. "Nobody must know about this. Understand?"

His progeny nodded. "I'll clean up this mess and don't breathe a single word about it. I'll just pretend that you're still in Öland."

"I must be free to find out who broke into my territory and tried to discredit me," Eric said sternly. "You need to cover this up and give me some time. I must find the killer before they can try to accuse me of murdering the king. I would have had every reason to do it, after all," he said, glancing at Sookie. Even Ginger stared at the two vampires, obviously having no idea what was going on.

"Would someone please inform me what's going on, or is this strictly vampire business?" Sookie hissed. "Please don't tell me that Eric is king now. Who will decide that, anyway?"

"The Authority, of course," Pam explained to her. "Nan Flanagan suggested to Eric that he could be the king, and he declined. This is why she chose Bill in the end. Eric is much older than he was, and more powerful than any vampire in Louisiana. He is the most obvious choice."

"I don't want to be king," Eric growled while he was crossing the blood pond with long strides, reaching Yvetta's body and searching what was left of her jacket. After a few moments he gave up since he found nothing.

"Fuck," he said.

"Are you by chance looking for this notebook?" Pam asked, reaching behind the bar and protruding a small leather-bound book that was drenched in blood. "This is why the gold-digging bitch came here. She was looking for something that could be held against you by the Authority."

"And she worked together with Bill," Sookie said earnestly. "He was the one who sent Yvetta here. He wanted to harm you, Eric," she concluded, a shiver running down her spine. "This time, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill you if it had redeemed him in the eyes of the Authority."

Eric took her hand and placed a quick kiss into her palm. "I fear that you're right, my lover. But I intend to find out what exactly has happened here. There could be much more than meets the eye. Will you accompany me to New Orleans? I know someone there who could tell us who did this, and maybe even why."

Sookie took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes. He looked genuinely worried and silently begged her to stay in Bon Temps, where she was relatively safe. However, he had promised her to take her with him, and this was exactly what she wanted.

"It will be my pleasure, Mr. Northman," she said, a faint smile curving her lips. "Besides, you might need me if a mind-reader should come in handy."

"The game is afoot, Watson," Pam remarked. She glamored the barmaid so she wouldn't know what had happened later. "Ginger, start cleaning that mess up," she commanded. "I'll get rid of the body. What a shame. I liked feeding from this stripper."

Ginger took one last glance at the pool of blood and looked as if she'd turn around and flee, never to come back. Instead, she fainted, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

"Take care of her, Pam," Eric said. "Sookie, we should leave if we want to reach New Orleans before sunset. I fear that the killer is already awaiting us."

*****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	6. Chapter 6

"I know that you want to go home, Sookie," Eric said after they had left Fangtasia and stood in the parking lot. "But we'll have to leave for New Orleans right away or the track of the killer might grow cold. Whoever did this must have bought the ingredients for this ritual. There's only one place I know where you'd go to get such powerful gris-gris. We'll go there first tomorrow night. Afterwards, there is someone I must seek out for advice." He looked down into her confused eyes and leaned down to kiss her brow.

She was still pale with shock from the horrible sight of what they had found at the club, and even more from Ginger's memories she had read in the barmaid's mind. Her fingers felt icy, and she shivered, despite the warm night. Eric had brought a blood red woolen blanket that he quickly retrieved from his office. It had the Fangtasia logo printed on it. Unfolding it, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

"As soon as we have resolved this matter, we'll return and stay at your house, for as long as you wish – that is, if you'll invite me. You've rescinded your invitation often enough, so I'm quite afraid to enter." He laughed, and the joyful sound cheered her up a bit. For the first time, she thought that, for a vampire of his age, it was astounding that he hadn't grown so cynical and cold, that he hadn't lost his ability to laugh so heartily. He most probably was one of the few vampires remaining with a good sense of humor.

"It's my house now, isn't it?" she said. "I forgot to thank you for that. Without your help, my brother would have sold it off while I was with the fairies, and I'd never be able to live there again. But Eric, how can I ever repay …"

He cupped her chin with his big hand and lifted her face up to his. "I don't want to hear a word of this. This house is yours, and it will be for good – same as my dead, cold heart. I'd have to lie to say that it beats only for you but it's the best I can offer. Maybe you should consider getting a human lover, after all."

"Oh Eric," she cried, "how can you say that …" When she heard him chuckle, she knew that he was just teasing her to get her mind off the murder scene. "Scoundrel!" she said, boxing him against his broad chest. It had the same effect as if she'd hit a tree trunk. "You know very well that I'd never …"

"Yes, and you'd better not. I'll never give you up," he growled, drawing her so close into his arms that she felt like he'd crush her. Then his mouth was on hers, opening her lips as their tongues mated in a slow, sensual dance. Sighing, Sookie leaned back into his embrace, feeling safe and loved. One of his hands was at the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair to keep her close. She moaned into his mouth, yielding to him as he started to kiss her harder, almost brutally, marking her his. Then she shivered as, for the first time ever, she heard his thoughts. Since they had shared the blood bond for the first time, she often could sense his feelings, but she had never heard him in her mind before. It was just a few words, but they came from him with such a strength and determination that she heard him as clearly as if he had spoken them out aloud.

You are mine.

Yes, I belong to you, completely. She concentrated, trying to send him the thought without knowing if he'd be able to hear her. But apparently he did, as she felt an instant wave of uninhibited joy and desire flowing through the bond. "You heard me," she said breathlessly, and felt him nod.

"You are a miracle," he said, hugging her closer to him.

"No. We are a miracle," Sookie answered. At that moment, it felt so good to let go, simply let herself be possessed by this beautiful, otherworldly creature. He owned her, would never let her go, and at the same time he felt the same for her, laying everything that he was down at her feet.

A powerful surge of love and lust rushed through her, running right down to the juncture between her thighs, and she kissed him back with all her might, throwing her arms around his neck as he pressed her into his body, making her feel the full length of his hardened manhood. Suddenly, her only desire was to give herself up and forget everything that had occurred in Fangtasia. Concentrating, she sent him another thought, wondering if he'd hear her again.

Do with me whatever you want. I'm yours. Make me feel alive, Eric.

His deep, satisfied growl made her female heat slick with need, and she suddenly felt the air whoosh around them as Eric held her prisoner in his iron grip and lifted off the ground, propelling them both up high in the air. Amazed, she broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. The night was so clear that countless stars lit up the infinite sky above them, and beneath the lights of Shreveport grew smaller and smaller as her vampire flew higher, then took a new direction.

"Where are we going?" she gasped, still afraid of the height. She had flown with him before, but never this high.

He chuckled. "Why, we're heading for the Big Easy, of course."

"Don't tell me you can fly all the way to New Orleans!"

Eric puffed his chest out. "Watch me, human." He flew some spirals and went up high until they nearly reached the clouds, then dived down again. He repeated that several times, and it felt better than a rollercoaster ride. Sookie screamed at first, but after a while she laughed wildly. Her blood raced through her veins, and her heart pounded fast and strong. He had wrapped her up in the blanket and held her enclosed in the safe circle of his arms, pressing her tightly against his body. Even through the thick wool she felt that the flight – and her nearness, she thought hopefully – excited him, too. Oh boy, it did.

She had to wriggle a bit, but finally she managed to get one hand out of the blanket and touch him, stroking him through the crude fabric of his jeans. He went rigid, but otherwise gave no sign for her to stop, so she continued, unbuttoning him until she could slip her hand inside his pants. Woot woot. He wore silk boxers today, which made it easier to free him. She slipped her fingers right in and felt him resting thick and heavy in her hand. He felt a bit slick, too; there was no doubt that he wanted her as badly as she craved his body right now, having seen so much death. When she squeezed him gently, he gave a low moan that made her shiver with need. The little noises he made when they were intimate together always managed to turn her on.

While flying, Eric seemed to have taken a certain direction now, rushing along at a height that allowed them not to be seen from below. She asked herself for a second how he knew how to head to New Orleans, but maybe he orientated by landmarks or streets. Actually, she didn't really care as she circled him with her hand and began to rub him up and down, using more pressure as she went along his pulsating cock. Silken skin over steel-hard flesh. Groaning, he thrust himself up into her hand.

"Sookie," he murmured, biting playfully into the side of her neck without breaking the skin. "What, may I ask, are you doing?"

"Seducing you, of course," she answered, giggling. "I need you, Eric," she added earnestly. "I want you inside of me, right now." She rubbed him a little harder, just in case he raised any objections.

He didn't seem to have any, since his clever fingers found a way to pull down her panties and slide them down her legs. Suddenly, he held them up and showed them to her, grinning with boyish triumph. She was glad that she'd chosen to wear a flowing summer dress today, not jeans and a tee. It made things so much easier.

Eric laughed again and tucked the panties into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. "I'll keep these as a souvenir," he said, grinning. "They'll remind me of the first time I made love while flying."

She pouted. "Liar. I don't know how many women you …"

"No, Sookie," he said, his gaze leaving no doubt that he told the truth. "You are the first woman … human or vampire I ever took flying with me. Do you think I'd share this with anyone?" He nodded towards the ground, where a million lights twinkled as bright as the clear sky above them.

Her heart leapt with joy, and she kissed him hard on the mouth, devouring him. "Then love me, Eric," she whispered. "Do it now."

With a swift turn, he whirled around and continued flying on his back, with her on top of him. The blanket fell away freely and slowly drifted down towards the earth, but Sookie felt so hot that she didn't need it anymore. He drew down his jeans just enough to free his rock-hard cock that yearned for her so much. Locking his strong hands around her waist, he lifted her and lowered her down onto his body.

She cried out in surprise when his hardness entered her with a single, perfectly-calculated movement of his hips. After the first moment she started to adjust to him. Although they'd had sex many times during the last year, still every time he entered her she was shocked by his immense size that filled her so completely, but she loved every second of it. She didn't know how she managed to take all of him into her body, but she could if she was aroused enough, and this was never a problem with Eric.

He grinned up at her, looking so handsome that she tightened around him, squeezing him with her inner muscles. "I fear that I'll have to concentrate on flying and keeping you safe, my Sookie," he said. "This time it will be you who'll have to do all the work."

She glowered at him. "Since when was it only you doing all the work when we …," she began, moaning when he started to retract from her. Quickly, she shoved herself down along his manhood until he was fully embedded in her, stretching her so wonderfully. Satisfied about the passionate reaction, he moved against her, then pulled back a little bit. Moaning with frustration, she felt the need to keep him inside her as deeply as possible – so she pushed down, then moved upwards again. The cold gust of wind that hit her made her lower her upper body onto his, reducing the air resistance so they flew easily now, cutting through the sky like a rocket.

"Yes," Eric growled. "Ride me, little fairy." He threw back his head and closed his eyes for a while when she increased her pace, sliding up and down his cock. The different angle made her tiny nub rub against the base of his manhood every time she pushed down, and she felt him pressing against the place where she loved to feel him most.

"Come for me," he commanded when he felt her tense and hold her breath.

"Yes, Eric," she moaned when she came for the first time, shuddering with release and burying her face into his neck. He entwined his fingers in her hair and gently pulled it back, making her look into his eyes while he took over, thrusting up into her trembling body hard and fast. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he proceeded until she climaxed again, screaming his name up to the heavens. Only then he allowed himself to find his own release, spilling himself into her sweet, warm body with a deep sound of contentment. He didn't bite her this time, determined not to weaken her when she was in this state of mind, still suffering from shock. Instead, he'd give his blood to her later, when they reached the safety of his house.

Not releasing her from his grip, he moved her up his body, making her delicious breasts easier to reach for his mouth. Pulling down the neckline of her dress with his teeth, he freed one of her lush mounds and locked his lips on her, suckling, nibbling and circling her with his tongue. Still weakened from the power of her orgasm, she just let it happen. After a few minutes, that deep throbbing inside her started anew. How was it possible that she found the strength to go for another round? But he always found a way to make her desire grow with his, sending her waves of want through the bond.

Eric surprised her again by turning her so quickly in the air she didn't even notice. All at once, she found herself lying on him the other way round, with her face near his crotch while he …

"Oh my God," she moaned as he pushed her down onto his face, shoving his tongue deep inside her. All vampires loved human body fluids, but this particular specimen especially loved to taste her. When he started to groan with delight, it nearly drove her over the edge again, but he knew how do prolong her pleasure, thoroughly licking her slick core as if he wanted to devour her alive.

Like a woman possessed, she encircled the base of his manhood and guided him into her mouth. He hadn't grown soft for a moment, but shifted and eagerly moved against her. Licking him up and down, she felt him grow even more and took him in, rewarded by another sexy sound he made to let her know how much he loved it. Well, during the last months she had learned a thing or two, so she let her fingers slide over his length with a skilled twist. Opening her lips, she took him in as far as she could, massaging him hard just as he liked it. Moisture built at the head of his cock, and she circled him with her tongue, moving her hand faster until she felt him slightly jerk in her mouth.

When he moved her upwards and reached her throbbing bud, sucking it deep into his mouth, she came instantly, holding onto him for dear life while she felt him come at the same time and greedily took what he gave her. When her spasms finally ebbed away, Eric placed a loving kiss onto her mound and turned her around to snuggle her up into his arms. With a last twist, he turned her under him again so he could fly faster. He made her wrap her arms and legs around him and covered her with his warm jacket, placing his chin over her head.

"We'll reach my house soon. Sleep now," he told her, but she was already drifting into a deep slumber, exhausted beyond measure. Smiling, Eric listened to her steady breathing as he slowly descended, directing his gaze to the shimmering lights of the city that awaited them below. Although his eyes were sharp, he didn't notice the thing that hid in the shadows on one of the rooftops. Consumed by agony, the creature was searching the nightly sky for the vampire it had learned to hate even more than the deepest abyss of hell from whence it had come.

*****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	7. Chapter 7

The Quartier Royal was located on one of the most fashionable corners of the French Quarter, St Louis at Royal. It was a 19th century hotel that had been renovated and refurnished a few years ago and held the most modern amenities now, while still keeping the grandeur of old New Orleans. It belonged to Eric, who had purchased it from a bankrupt hotelier in the 1920s.

Since then, it had been one of his most profitable business acquisitions. Without making this public, Eric had one floor of rooms that were suitable for vampires, with high-tech windows with stained glass that could be made completely light-safe. He'd even offered special rooms to vampires before they had made their existence public, but then they had been located in a secret underground part of the hotel. The human service staff had been glamored personally by him, compelling them never to breathe a single word about their unusual guests.

Although there was a first class upper floor that was closed off from the public, with suites that were praised to be the most luxuriously equipped rooms in all of New Orleans, the penthouse belonged to Eric and was always kept ready-to-use for his regular visits. He believed in letting his employees know that the boss was often around, watching them closely, and in paying them well to ensure their loyalty. They had thanked him by keeping up their excellent customer service, and guests who had stayed once at the Quartier Royal always came back.

Sookie was sound asleep in Eric's arms when he landed on his private balcony. It was huge, the floor made from Scandinavian wood so dark that it shone like polished ebony. The turquoise pool seemed to drop down over the edge of the building and offered a perfect view of the French Quarter, and an lndonesian hand-carved canopy bed strewn with soft cushions, inviting enough to spend most of the hot nights outdoors.

The inside of the penthouse had been luxuriously, but sparsely furnished, according to his needs, but recently he had arranged that everything a human woman could possibly require was added and built in so he could bring Sookie here any time. He was glad that she had been so upset by the sight of the murder scene that she hadn't even thought about packing her own belongings. She had a whole walk-in closet filled with designer clothes, shoes and underwear that should fit her perfectly.

He smiled to himself when he realized how little importance she attached to such luxury items. She loved to dress up and feel pretty like any other woman did, but she had never asked him to buy her anything, although he could easily afford anything she could ever wish for.

The first rays of light would appear any moment; he felt it as surely as the undeniable need to rest that would soon overpower him. Opening the safety lock by entering a code, he proceeded to the master bedroom and settled Sookie down onto the bed, tucking her in. After he'd informed the manager that he was in residence, Eric closed all the windows by lowering the automatic light-safe shutters. Settling down on the bed next to his fairy, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, inhaling her sweet scent as he fell into his deathlike sleep.

"We are going to a real Voodoo shop?" Sookie could hardly conceal her excitement when they explored the streets of the French quarter the next night.

Eric threw her a scolding glance. "Keep calm this time, Sookie. The owner of this shop isn't an ordinary woman. Your curiosity could keep her from telling us anything. She's real, unlike the fake voodoo priests who sell their souvenirs to keep the tourists entertained. She is a Mambo Asogwe, a high priestess who preserves the rituals and songs of her people. She keeps the balance between the worlds of the living and the spirits. If someone knows who could be the murderer, it's her."

At the sight of her even more excited face, he moaned. "Maybe I should have gone alone this time."

"Don't you dare, Mr. Northman!" Sookie hissed. "You won't go anywhere without me. You seem to believe you'll have all of the fun alone – while you keep your human safely at home where she belongs."

"Worse than a horde of rabid Danes," Eric murmured to himself, ignoring Sookie's punches into his ribs. He led her down Rue Dumaine and headed straight to a large shop with a blinking neon sign that said "Bloody Mary's Authentic Voodoo Store" – probably hinting at the infamous Voodoo queen of New Orleans, Marie Laveau. Unexpectedly he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side alley right beside the shop that was so tiny that she wouldn't have noticed it by herself. They went along between houses that probably were the oldest of the city, their crumbling walls still withstanding the tooth of time.

At the end of the alley, there was a tiny souvenir shop that held tourist guides, Creole cookbooks, fake voodoo dolls and Fleur-de-lis jewelry that said "Real Sterling silver" on the label – Eric examined it with a raised brow and then held up a bracelet. It didn't even cause his skin to redden.

"How 'real' is your silver, Mama Valerie?" he asked, slowly turning to the woman that had appeared beside them, so silently it made Sookie wince with surprise. She was a small, corpulent woman about fifty, her skin dark and smooth like black velvet. Her African-style clothes in bright colors, and the deep red cotton scarf she had wrapped around her head like a turban fitted her well. Combined with her proud posture, she was a living reminder of her ancestors who had been dragged from their homelands and shipped to a strange new world.

Ignoring Eric, she immediately turned her attention to his companion. Her intelligent, dark brown eyes seemed to look right into Sookie's soul as she watched her with a contemplative stare.

"What have you brought me here, Viking?" Mama Valerie said with a slight French accent, not taking her gaze from Sookie. "She is exceptional."

Sookie felt Eric's arm slipping around her waist. She felt his alertness through the bond and realized that he was protecting her. Obviously this Mama Valerie wasn't someone to mess with. Maybe it was time she remembered her good Southern manners.

Slowly she held out her hand, forcing herself to look unwaveringly into the older woman's eyes.

"My name is Sookie Stackhouse, Ma'am. Pleased to meet you," she said, but felt incredibly stupid when Valerie stared at her as if she was a curiosity. Suddenly she felt a raw, unknown power emanating from the woman, something she'd never felt before. Within seconds she knew that she was been tested in some way, that something reached out to her, trying to get into her mind. She shut up her thoughts against the intruding power, concentrating on the mighty bond with Eric whose mere presence seemed to strengthen her, keeping the attack at bay. After a few moments, the weird feeling was gone as quickly as it had come. Madame Valerie laughed, pearly white teeth flashing up in her dark face.

"I'm impressed," she said. "I haven't seen any of your kind for a while, my child. But to see someone of your bloodline connected with a vampire as old as our Viking here is truly remarkable." Her eyes wandered from one of her visitors to the other with an inscrutable expression. "But the question remaining is – what has led you here?"

Eric briefly explained what had happened at Fangtasia, explaining the details of the murder to her. When she nodded, he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small wooden box. Sookie shuddered when Mama Valerie opened the lid and observed the contents, sniffing at them.

"Oui," she said. "The rooster's claw. And a mixture of several herbs … they are quite common, you could buy them in any shop frequented by the tourists. But there is something else. Black hand root. It's very rare, and you can only get it at one place in all of New Orleans."

"And where would that be?" Eric asked, raising his brows.

"Why, here, of course," Mama Valerie answered in a tone that indicated she was talking to a less bright kid, rather than to a thousand-year-old vampire. Eric didn't seem to mind. Sookie suddenly wondered how old this woman was. She felt a wave of power radiating from her mind, engulfing everything in her presence. And she couldn't read her thoughts, although she sensed that the voodoo priestess was human.

"C'mon in," Valerie said. "We'll have to talk."

The back of the shop wasn't much larger than Sookie's living room, but it was crammed with the most peculiar objects that were fascinating and gruesome at the same time. There wasn't the usual stuff sold at voodoo shops, like dolls, love potions or gris-gris bags. The room was filled from floor to ceiling with ingredients of all types, candles in every color imaginable, books so old they seemed to crumble into dust. There were also unspeakable things swimming in embalming fluid – Sookie didn't bother to look at them for too long.

Countless herbs hung on the walls to dry or were stored in glass jars, boxes, bowls and cartons, but all of them neatly labeled and stapled over each other. Sookie had no idea how anyone could find something they were looking for in this chaos, but obviously Mama Valerie had some system as she was scanning the rows and quickly pulled out a few jars. She walked over to a working table that stood on the opposite wall and added small quantities of everything she had chosen, using a mortar and pestle. Examining the resultant mixture, she compared it with the herbs in Eric's box.

"Oh yes," she said, more to herself than to her visitors. "Someone knew exactly what they were doing. They were faking it in a way only a true believer could." She sniggered.

"What the hell is she talking about? Is she crazy?" Sookie whispered to Eric, but he pressed her hand, warning her to remain silent.

After a while, Mama Valerie abruptly turned around.

"You are in deep trouble, Viking," she said. "In a deep shithole of trouble, I'd say," she added, giggling. "This is very bad Juju. The rooster's claw stand for making the dead talk … in this case, to tell you who murdered them. This is why the sacrificed woman had it in her mouth. She should tell you where to go to have your revenge. The black hand's root, and the other ingredients stand for a lover's complaint … oui, d'amour tragique, a heart's desire that will never be fulfilled since the loved one is lost forever. Endless pain and unforgiving hate. You were right, Viking. This magic is of the darkest kind, not used as a ritual to gain power or anything else the sorcerer longs for. It's only purpose was to make the spirits bring you to New Orleans."

"Let's stick with the facts," Eric said, beginning to grow impatient. "Tell us what the murderer was doing in my bar. Yvetta's death obviously wasn't expected since she coincidentally broke in that day to steal information that could harm me. Bill's presence wasn't planned, either. He was just looking for her when she didn't arrive at the airport. So how could the murderer possibly plan such a task? And who bought the Black Hand's Root? You said that it can only be purchased here, in your shop."

"Of course. Only Mama Valerie has such strong gris-gris. Only two customers recently bought it: a woman who has declared herself the 'new Marie Laveau'; she sells love potions, tells the future and performs rituals for anyone who can afford her ridiculous prices. Her name's Adrienne Lavoisier. I'll give you her address. The second is someone you know very well, Viking."

"Gervais Civrac," Eric said darkly. "Sadly, yes. Don't tell me this Creole bastard has turned to Voodoo now."

"This is something you should ask him," Valerie answered. "I only know that he bought the ingredient, not what he used it for, or to whom he gave it."

"You haven't answered the other question," Eric said, his rigid posture telling Sookie that something was very wrong.

"You already know the answer, Viking. Whoever broke into your club, had just one thing in mind – luring you to New Orleans. And since you are currently standing here in my shop, they succeeded. But they made one big mistake."

"They didn't want to kill Yvetta, or Bill," Eric said as he started to shake with rage.

"No," Mama Valeria replied, slowly nodding. "This was pure coincidence. When they saw a human woman in your club, they mistook her for the one they had originally intended to kill. The one whose death would infuriate you so much that you would run straight into their trap. You already suspected that there was a trap laid out for you. But you can't stop searching for the killer, can you, Viking? And all the while, you think that the safest place for her is still at your side. What a fool you are."

Sookie gasped, unable to speak a single word as realization hit her. Eric slowly turned his head towards her, his torment clearly written in his eyes.

"Forgive me for bringing you here, my lover," he said. "I suspected it right from the start, but wasn't sure until now. The human the murderer intended to kill, the only one whose death would cause enough pain in me to make me seek revenge is …"

"Me," Sookie murmured, horror spreading across her face.

*****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	8. Chapter 8

Although he wasn't the king of Louisiana, Gervais Civrac was practically the ruler of the vampire underworld of New Orleans. Born soon after the founding of the city at the dawn of the 18th century, he was the bastard son of a French nobleman who had crossed the ocean to become one of the richest merchants of the city, and his mistress, a black woman he had freed from slavery.

Gervais soon followed in the footsteps of his father and multiplied the wealth of the family, always striving for admittance into the highest circles. However, his peers never ceased to remind him of his heritage, and of his caramel skin which gave proof of his Creole blood, no matter how exceptionally azure his eyes were. Turned vampire shortly after his thirtieth birthday, his newfound abilities to glamor and control humans, combined with his strikingly good looks, enabled him to rise to power quickly, holding interest in practically every major company in town.

No one of importance, vampire or human, came to New Orleans without paying him their respects first, and his share of their business earnings later. However, he had never demanded anything from Eric due to the Viking's prerogative in the vampire hierarchy, and Eric didn't press his luck, wisely limiting his business in New Orleans to his hotel.

Eric had informed Sookie about all of this while they had changed into more formal clothing. Now they stood before Gervais's 19th century mansion that was one of the grandest along St. Charles Street, its huge white columns glowing in the darkness like the long-forgotten bones of a giant. Eric wore a dark grey Armani suit while a long red dress hugged Sookie's curves, complete with gloves that reached to her upper arms, and a diamond collier Eric had taken from a safe that was built into the wall of his closet.

The size of the stones took her breath away, but she stubbornly chose to believe that he had just borrowed them from a jeweler and would give them back tomorrow. She had swept up her hair, leaving a few curls to frame her face. After seeing her in this attire, Eric had surprised her by being actually speechless for a few moments. He had offered to remain at the penthouse tonight and love her until she begged him to stop. Sighing, she'd declined this time – even if the suit looked so good on him that she only wanted to strip him out of it, starting with the buttons of his silken shirt.

After all, they had a case to solve.

"Are you ready?" he asked before offering his arm to her.

"Don't you think we are somewhat overdressed?" she whispered, suddenly feeling like turning on her heel and running.

"No. We need to blend in," Eric answered, cupping her chin and raising it to his lips. He kissed her in a slow, seductive way that made her forget all of her fears. "Believe me, my Sookie," he whispered, finally releasing her, "if I knew it was safe, I'd take you back to Bon Temps and lock you into your house, keeping an army of vampires to watch over you day and night. But as long as we don't know who our enemy is, we can trust no one, and you'd better stay with me."

"Do you really think I'd want to leave you alone with this?" she said, brushing her lips over his cool cheek. "You need me, Eric Northman," she added, reminding him of her telepathic powers. "Admit it."

He laughed, quickly kissing her again. "Never."

The door with the golden knocker opened, and a human servant bowed his head before them, asking them to come in. When they entered the house, Sookie gasped at the grandeur of the entrance hall which was dominated by a large double staircase that swept down from the upper floors. The butler brought them to a parlor as large as the Bon Temps community hall. It was lit by huge silver candelabra, and crowded with vampires who were dressed in haute couture, drinking champagne and talking. Some of them were making out, obviously not needing any privacy. One couple was even about to have sex, their partly clothed bodies entwined on a designer couch in a darkened corner. Sookie looked away and opened up her mind, but there weren't too many humans apart from a few servants, whose thoughts were so clouded that they had to be glamored by their employer.

"There seem to be many vampires in New Orleans," she whispered.

"Oh yes," Eric answered as he wrapped her arm around his and guided her through the crowd. Sookie winced when she saw vampires turning their heads into her direction, distracted by her alluring fairy scent. She clung tighter to her Viking's arm. "There is no other city that has so many undead citizens. And they all answer to Gervais Civrac."

"Does he approve … this, in his own house? It's almost like an orgy." She threw a quick glance to the passionate vampire couple, who now rolled around on the couch in erotic positions. Sookie blushed.

Eric grinned. "Oh, yes, he even encourages it. He's known to have a very hedonistic lifestyle. Don't let him sense your anxiety, Sookie. He needs to know that I'm protecting you. I'll do most of the talking if possible, so just try to keep calm, my lover. Ah, there he is."

Suddenly the crowd parted, and they saw a male vampire standing at the huge fireplace, his hand holding a glass of crimson liquid – somehow Sookie doubted that it was True Blood – that stood on the mantelpiece. Gervais was nearly as tall as Eric. His face was averted, as if he was lost in thought. Then, unexpectedly, he turned his head and saw his visitors. There was no doubt that he had been informed of their arrival, but there was open astonishment in his face as he laid eyes on Sookie, staring at her with an awestruck expression.

He was one of the most exquisite males she had ever seen, with a café-au-lait skin that looked as smooth as velvet, dark wavy hair that was neatly combed back, and eyes so light they gave a sizzling contrast to the rest of his coloring. Those eyes betrayed his true age while the rest of him looked young and flawless. He briefly closed them as he inhaled deeply. Sookie didn't even have time to think what he was smelling before he was standing in front of her.

A small cry of surprise escaped her. She hadn't expected this. Gervais had moved so quickly that she hadn't had time to react. Then everything happened at the same time. Eric was moving to draw her behind his back for protection, but despite his supernatural speed the light-eyed vampire had outrun him. Without forewarning, he grabbed Sookie and pulled her towards him, pressing her against his hard body. Before she knew what had happened, she felt his fingers running through her hair as he gently bent her head to the side, his lips grazing the skin of her neck.

*****

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com  
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	9. Chapter 9

A big hand closed around Gervais's throat and shoved him away from Sookie. Not releasing the younger vampire, Eric said, very calmly: "She is mine. Is this the hospitality you show to your guests? If you considered her a gift, you should have asked first."

Quickly, Sookie moved behind Eric's back, hoping that there wouldn't be a fight. The air was almost crackling with tension. Eric hadn't released Gervais yet, and the Creole had pulled out a dagger that had been hidden somewhere in his clothing – a black silk shirt with fitted suit trousers – so it probably came from behind his belt. The weapon was small enough to be concealed easily, but dangerous enough to kill. Its sharp tip was pressed against Eric's chest now, right above his heart.

"The blade is made of wood, coated with silver," Gervais hissed. "I guess you wouldn't like to feel it pierce your heart?"

"Nor shall I if I rip off your head first," Eric replied. "Which of us will be faster, do you think?"

Instead of an answer, Gervais just stared back at him, meeting Eric's cold blue eyes with his deadly gaze. Sookie felt her body tighten as she expected one of them to strike at any moment. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the other vampires move closer, ready to attack. She wondered if Eric was strong enough to fight so many of them.

After a few seconds, the deadly expression in Gervais's eyes shifted and changed to something else – amusement. Laughing, he clapped Eric's shoulder. The Viking still looked like he wanted to tear Gervais to pieces, but he slowly released him from his iron grip.

"Easy, friend," Gervais said. "I won't eat your precious human even if I have to admit that she smells like a real treat. Maybe another time …," he winked at Sookie. "When she's not yours anymore."

Sookie held her breath, but before her eyes, Eric's expression changed into a semblance of polite demeanor, even pleasantry. Yet she felt how alert he was, prepared to defend her whenever necessary. She could feel an untamed rage coming through the bond, strong enough to consume her with its sheer force, but she quickly closed her mind to him, feeling that it was best to keep a cool head right now.

"If I wasn't Eric's," she said seductively as she went to his side, stepping out from the relative safety behind his back, "I am sure you'd be my first choice, Monsieur Civrac. I fear my Viking has a bad temper if another man touches me." She stretched out her hand to Gervais and sensed Eric's fury seeping through the barrier she had erected between them.

To her relief, Gervais only pressed a gallant kiss to her hand and released her instantly, gesturing them to follow him. "It is my pleasure, Miss Stackhouse. Yes, I know who you are," he added, seeing her surprise, "I always know who enters my city … and who leaves it, dead or alive. Rumors – gumbo ya ya, as we call it here, spread quickly in New Orleans, Mademoiselle. It is a pleasure to have you here, and Eric Northman. It has been a long time since we met, friend. I hope you and your human companion will be my guests for dinner tonight."

Sookie doubted that Eric would call this vampire his friend, but for now he nodded, accepting Gervais's hospitality. It would be impossible not to socialize if they wanted to draw some information from Gervais.

Their host led them to an adjacent room that was elaborately decorated, with an antique Duncan Phyfe dining table that was apparently meant for a small group of elegant guests, set with Victorian china, crystal glasses and silverware. Sookie strongly suspected that Gervais had a whole ballroom to entertain larger groups of his vampire guests. Probably they served human virgins there, she mused, not realizing that she had murmured this thought out aloud until she saw Eric smile at her side. "Indeed," he whispered, leaning down to her. His fingers brushed over the small of her back, guiding her to her seat, and she felt the sensation of his touch run through her body.

"I was invited to some of the decadent festivities in this house. When we're back at the penthouse, I'll demonstrate on your body all the places the guests were offered to feed from the glamored females. Blood can taste quite differently, depending on where you draw it." Sookie gave a sharp intake of breath, and he grinned boyishly. Astonishingly, all the rage he had clearly felt earlier seemed to have vanished, and all she felt coming from him was his calm composure, mixed with alertness and the obvious desire he felt for her right now.

Gervais cleared his throat and indicated for Eric to sit down opposite him with an elegant gesture of his hand. He was sitting on the head of the table, with Eric seated opposite him. Sookie took the place of the guest of honor to his right. "If the happy couple wouldn't mind separating for the duration of dinner, I'd like to introduce someone to you," he said. Sookie hadn't seen the tall, beautiful woman that had swept into the room like a vision in black organza. Her pale skin and deep eyes clearly marked her as a vampire, apart from the fact that Sookie couldn't read anything she was thinking, the same as with Gervais.

Slender as a willow, the female vampire moved with the grace of a ballet dancer. Her eyes rested on Eric while she gracefully stretched out her hand to Gervais, who kissed it tenderly. "This is Jeanne," he said, not caring to explain what she was to him. He didn't need to. His hand slowly trailed down her bare shoulders and arm when she sat down at his other side, still watching the Viking, ignoring Sookie. Jeanne couldn't have been more different from Sookie. Her Creole blood showed in her dark eyes and carefully coiffured black hair, and although her skin was nearly white, it had surely once been a light, creamy brown.

"And who might this be?" Jeanne asked in a slight French accent, without averting her eyes from Eric. Sookie didn't dare turn her head to find out how Eric was looking at this woman who so most obviously enjoyed staring at him. But she felt anger rising in her as the evil green monster took hold of her. She should have remained calm, but she just couldn't help it.

"It is of no importance to you," she said, feeling grim joy as Jeanne's gaze finally wandered to her. "His name is Eric Northman, and he's mine."

For a few moments, both Jeanne and Gervais stared at her as if she had suddenly grown horns. Then they began to laugh, an ironic sound that clearly showed their belief that she was inferior to them, a mere mortal that had dared to claim a vampire for herself.

"Your human is very entertaining … Eric," Jeanne finally said. "She believes you belong to her." She laughed, slightly opening her lips to reveal sharp white fangs.

Eric smiled nonchalantly. "I fear those humans can get quite overwhelmed by a vampire's appeal." Sookie wanted to say something, but pressed her lips together when he sent her a wave of love and reassurance.

Gervais laughed heartily before he lifted his glass for a toast. It was filled with a special brand of fresh blood as were the other vampires' while Sookie's contained – to her utter relief – an excellent red wine. Then the first course was served by a human butler and a maid – arugula salad with grilled scallops and asparagus for Sookie, and a steaming red soup for the vampires that made her lose her appetite very quickly. She chose only to take another sip of her wine while she listened.

"Don't try to fool us, Eric," Gervais remarked, raising his brows. "I saw the way you protected her. I know that you care for her, and I'd really like to know why."

"I like her," Jeanne said. "She smells trés bien. Can I taste her some time, maybe?"

For the blink of an eye, Eric's eyes filled with cold rage, and he looked as if he'd kill the two vampires on the spot. But the impression was gone as swiftly as it had come, and he smiled. "Let's not talk about my love life, my friend," he said, addressing Gervais. "I'd prefer you to tell me what you did with the Black Hand's Root you bought at Mama Valerie's shop. The blood tastes delicious, by the way," he added, setting down his glass.

Either Gervais wasn't surprised by Eric's sudden question, or he was able to control himself masterfully. Neither his face nor his eyes showed any expression as he shrugged.

"I'm not practicing Voodoo anymore. But I bought the root as a gift."

"For whom?" Eric pressed him.

"I don't know why this should interest you, but since it evidently does – it was for a good friend, a human. Her name is Adrienne Lavoisier – you know, the 'new Marie Laveau'." He laughed. "As if this woman could compete with the real Marie, considering her pathetic attempts at magic!"

"So this human is your friend?" Eric asked, glowering at him. "Do you really expect me to believe this?"

"Well, maybe a better description would be 'business partner'," Gervais said, a slight smile on his lips. "Her house is crowded with wealthy tourists every night, humans who have come all the way to old Orleans for a bag of gris-gris she prepares for them, or for a love spell. They'd pay anything to make her perform one of her rituals for them – and they do, believe me." He laughed. "I visited her soon after she came to New Orleans, quickly learning how to bring herself into the center of attention. She soon understood that everyone who wants to earn money in this city must pay a tribute to me – except my oldest friends, of course." He nodded to Eric, subtly letting him know that he owed him for not having interfered with his hotel business so far.

"Excuse me," Sookie said, turning to Gervais. "If the voodoo skills of this Ms Lavoisier are so non-existent, why would you give her a root that's only sold by Mama Valerie, so strong that it can solely be used by the most experienced voodoo practitioners?"

This finally seemed to surprise Gervais, as he blinked, directing his full attention onto her. When he began with a detailed explanation about the art of voodoo magic, she caught a sudden movement of Eric from the corner of her eye. Her glass was thrown over, and the wine spilled all over her lovely new dress, staining the bright red to a darker tone.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, looking sorrowfully down at the most beautiful piece of clothing she's ever owned. It was probably ruined beyond repair now. And why had Eric knocked over a glass of wine? She'd never seen him do anything clumsy before – she hadn't even known that such a thing was possible when it came to her Viking.

"I'm sorry," Eric said calmly, looking into her eyes. She saw the warning look in them. In the meantime, Jeanne started to fuss over her.

"Oh, you poor thing," she crooned, "what did you do to your lovely dress? I'll take you upstairs and give you something else to wear. Louise will try to remove the stain." The female vampire gave the waiting maid a curt wave to join them outside as she hurriedly ushered Sookie out of her seat. "Come, human."

"Not so quickly," Eric interfered. He stood up and grabbed Sookie's arm, silently telling her to stay exactly where she was. "I saw you put something into her drink when you thought I was engaged in a conversation with Gervais," he said, turning to Jeanne. "You can't be very smart if you think you can do something like that without me noticing it." He grabbed her throat and pulled her towards him, snarling at her. The female vampire's eyes widened with fear. "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you very slowly, Jeanne. It will be my pleasure."

Gervais jumped up from his chair and lunged at Eric, but he shoved him back so effortlessly, the younger vampire crashed into the sideboard, taking dozens of pieces of fine china down with him. "You ordered her to drug Sookie, Creole bastard," he growled, deliberately choosing the one mockery that would drive Gervais into a blind rage. "Or did you want to kill her right away, with poison?

It worked. Gervais came back just as quickly. Yet instead of fighting Eric, he went straight for Sookie's throat, his fangs bared.

In the next few seconds, everything seemed to happen at once. One moment Sookie was standing beside a table with a furious vampire coming to kill her, while the other stood in his way to protect her and the next, everything was gone, and she was in Eric's arms again, quickly moving through the air as he headed back to the hotel.

"Eric!" she gasped. "What has happened? Why are we …"

"I had to leave, Sookie," he said through clenched teeth, pressing her to his body as if she were a fragile doll. "I was such a fool to fall for their cheap trick."

"What do you mean?"

"I feel … strange," he answered after a while, diving down through the air to land on the balcony of his penthouse. "They didn't poison you. Gervais had planned everything. He told Jeanne to put something in your drink while I was watching. But in truth, it was my blood that was poisoned all the time. Making me knock over your glass was just a distraction to prevent me from noticing the effects of this drug they gave me. I don't know what it is – a Voodoo herbal ingredient, maybe. I feel strange. It can't kill me, of course, but it is succeeding in slowing me down by dulling my senses. Once I realized this, I knew we had to get out."

As soon as they had reached the apartment, Eric locked the balcony doors behind him and fell on the bed, knowing that nothing would be able to wake him before next nightfall. "Have … to … sleep," he said with a last pleading look at Sookie. When she nodded, he murmured, "Sookie, please listen to me this one time. Stay … here." Then he closed his eyes and was dead to the world.

When he awoke the following night, Sookie was gone. As he began to search frantically for her, he found a message on the mirror of her closet, written in her blood.

"If you try to find her, she's dead.

If you try to enter my house, she's dead.

Meet me tomorrow night at midnight at Marie Laveau's grave. "

*****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	10. Chapter 10

Royal Street belonged to one of the more refined areas of New Orleans, featuring an exotic mix of art galleries, antique shops, boutiques and first-class hotels, the most renowned being Eric's. On this particular evening, the tourists that had been strolling along the sidewalk scattered away like frightened chickens when they heard the deafening noise of smashing glass as a full-sized cupboard was thrown out of the penthouse window and landed in the pool of the balcony. Soon the street was covered with tiny shards that rained from the heavens like the tears of a glass giant.

When the passersby heard the deep cry of pain from above, its sheer, heartbreaking agony made them shudder with fear. So they instinctively chose to continue their way, not daring to loiter on the sidewalk to feed their curiosity. Maybe they sensed that a predator was about to lose control, a creature that could end their fragile existence with a single blow. Eager to get away as swiftly as possible, they hurried away, and no one thought of calling the police. As a result, no one was hurt when an antique pianoforte came down from the top floor and crashed into a million pieces on the pavement.

Eric knelt beside the bed, the only intact piece of furniture that had remained in his penthouse. Gripping the sheets so hard he tore them apart without even noticing, he greedily inhaled her scent still clinging to them. It was the only thing that was left of her, and it faded as rapidly as the human life she was desperately holding on to. He could feel her pain, her panic as she screamed for him to come and rescue her, kill whoever had dared to take her away from him.

Oh, how he wished he could. In the same moment he had seen the message on the mirror, he had been on his way to Gervais's house, not even bothering to open a window. Hovering over the estate, he had known all at once that she wasn't there. He couldn't feel her anymore; it was as if his senses were dulled, as if he'd been struck dumb and blind at the same time. Perhaps the drug he had so foolishly indigested during last night's dinner was strong enough to leave him bereft of his powers, rendering him weak and helpless.

When he decided to circle over the city instead, attempting to locate her, it was just the same. He could feel her, knew how she suffered and finally became unconscious, still alive but weakened. Her silent cries ripped through his soul, causing deep, gashing wounds. He felt that she needed his blood to survive, and he would have gladly rammed a stake through his own heart to give it to Sookie – if he only knew where to find her.

After a few hours, he gave up, returning to his hotel to contemplate what to do next. However, when he entered through the smashed window, smelling her sweet scent still lingering in the air, he lost it. Now the apartment so lovingly decorated by Pam was completely destroyed, and he didn't give a damn. He could have killed a dozen people down on the streets with all the pieces of furniture he had thrown out of the windows, but he didn't care.

All he wanted was to have her back, to keep her safe after he had failed her so badly. The sheets were stained dark from his tears when he finally stood up, intending to go to the one place he could hope to find help. It was the first time he was forced to ask for it, but even that was nothing in comparison to the torture of knowing that she might be lost to him forever.

Mama Valerie's shop was closed when he arrived, a sign on the door confirming this. Eric knocked twice. When no one answered, he ripped the door from its hinges with a single movement of his wrist. He'd pay the priestess for it later. Entering, he tried to pierce the darkness with his sharp eyes, but there was no sign of anybody, not a sound, not a smell, although he believed that he sensed … something indefinable.

The back area was pitch black. Only a beam of light from the street fell through the entrance. Eric saw well enough what had happened here. The shop was in a state of total chaos – all the shelves thrown over, Valerie's countless jugs with their ingredients smashed, the contents spilled over the floor. Every drawer was torn out and seemed to have been searched through, books and yellowed papers with unrecognizable drawings spread across the room.

Someone had searched for something that had been hidden here. Evidently, they hadn't found it, as the room looked as if it had been destroyed out of anger. A piece of fabric lay on the floor beneath the knocked-over workbench. When Eric walked over to pick it up, he saw that it was Mama Valerie's turban. His keen nose told him that the blood in which it was drenched was undeniably hers. So they had taken her, too.

There was a soft sound in one of the corners. He whirled around but saw nothing. Probably it was just a rat from the alley, drawn into the house by the indescribable stench of some of the released ingredients – many of which were of animal origin. He shook his head in the futile attempt to clear it. His senses still had to be impaired if he couldn't even make out a small animal that was hiding in the debris.

He turned to go when he was suddenly overwhelmed by the strong feeling that he'd missed something. His thoughts had only been occupied with Sookie's safety so far; but now he realized that he had overlooked the clues that were so obvious.

What had Mama Valerie's abductors been looking for? He couldn't shake off the feeling that her disappearance was related to Sookie's. He had sought out the priestess just the day before, and now she was gone, just like his lover. But what would a powerful vampire like Gervais want from a voodoo priestess, the item's absence so important to him that he destroyed the whole shop? Normally vampires his age didn't lose their self-restraint so easily.

It was clear that Gervais planned some ritual, and he might have searched for a rare ingredient here. Yet if this was true, why would he have taken Valerie with him if she didn't have it? Why not just go and look somewhere else for it? No. It must have been something else he wanted.

'What was it, Mama Valerie?' he thought. Undoubtedly he had not gotten what he had been looking for, or he'd just have killed the woman and left her lying dead on the floor. Gervais practically ruled the city, and Eric was sure that he had undermined the police, too.

All at once, the truth struck him. There was only one answer.

"Knowledge," he whispered. Some of the rituals that were considered dark voodoo, or Petro, as their religion was called, had been written down in ancient texts that were known only to a few. Their secrets were safely kept, only handed down to the most worthy from generation to generation.

So Gervais couldn't perform his ritual without Mama Valerie's wisdom. Eric began to pace up and down the room, trying to think. He didn't stand a chance of knowing what it was that the Mamba protected from her intruders without finding her first, and he wasn't sure if she was still alive.

By chance his gaze wandered to the working bench. It was lying on its side, and when he examined it further, he realized that there was something wrong with the proportions of the table. Quickly he ran his hand along the underside of the countertop and found that it seemed to be narrower on the left. He traced the outline of the wood with his finger and wasn't surprise when a secret compartment opened. It contained a small book that seemed to be very old. Eric opened the leather-bound cover and began to read.

A sound from behind made him turn around and stare in the eyes of the most absurd creature he had ever seen. He didn't know how it had managed to sneak up on him without him noticing. The drug must still be affecting him, and the thing didn't make a sound as it rose from a crouching position to its full height, which was that of a tall man's. Eric now knew that this was what he had been smelling – a sickening mixture of mold, dried blood and rotten, decomposing flesh.

The creature's eyes were dark and empty like dried-up wells, with just a hint of life lurking somewhere in their soulless depths. But as he watched, there was intelligence in them, rising up to the surface with an expression of raw, blind hate. The man opened his mouth – for this was what it once had been, a tall black man who was now wearing half-rotten clothes, nothing more than a cruel mockery of the life this body had once held. He tried to speak, but only dry, croaking sounds came out of his throat, his tongue a useless, shriveled piece of mummified flesh in his mouth.

Only witchcraft that had gone terribly wrong could have created such a zombi, as the voodoo priests called the walking dead. Although Eric felt very much alive, the thought crossed his mind that maybe he himself wasn't supposed to walk this earth, just like the black monster that was leaping at him right now, probably not knowing that it didn't stand a chance against a vampire his age.

"Where is Mama Valerie?" Eric hissed. His hand closed around the zombie's neck, ready to snap it into pieces like a dry twig. "Where is Sookie?" he asked as he rammed his fist into the creature's chest, ready to rip its heart out. When the undead laughed, it sounded like nails scratching over a chalkboard.

"You'll never find her on your own," he croaked, every word painfully wrung from his throat. His Creole accent still distinguishable. "She is … dead meat. All that matters is her blood."

Eric lifted his arm until the zombie's feet dangled in the air. "I want her back. Now, or you'll leave your worthless life as quickly as you have gained it back." His other hand closed around the creature's heart, the only thing in his body that was filled with blood, stubbornly pumping to bring life into this corpse.

"Go on and kill me," the man said, chuckling. "It wouldn't be the first time. But my wife wouldn't like this at all. Oh no, Monsieur. She'd kill your fairy with pleasure, and she would suffer more than you'd ever be able to imagine."

Eric closed his eyes for a moment as he fought to restrain himself. Slowly, he lowered the man to the floor and retrieved his hand from the creature's chest, but still held on to his throat.

"What do you mean, it wouldn't be the first time?" he growled.

"I know you, Eric Northman," the creature whispered, an evil smile spreading across its mummified face. "And you know me. My name is Jacques Paris. Do you remember the year of 1820? It was a good year. I was happily married, and my wife was carrying our first child."

"I … remember you," Eric said, aghast. An image began to form in his mind, a memory of a well-spoken, charismatic man whom he had once met. Jacques Paris had been a free Haitian, and the beloved husband of the most powerful woman in all of New Orleans. He released the zombie from his grasp, staring at him in disbelief. "I killed you. But who could have raised you from the dead, if not …"

"Yes," the creature replied, his black, liquid eyes glittering with delight. "Marie Laveau is still here, after all that time. And now you'll bring me back to life – my real, human life. Find out which last ingredient is needed to perform the ritual, and meet us tomorrow at the cemetery as planned. Should you fail, your human's screams will haunt you throughout eternity."

With surprising speed, Jacques left the room. Crawling out of the window like a huge beetle, he melted into the night. His mocking laughter was still ringing in Eric's ears long after he was gone.

*****

 

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	11. Chapter 11

Beyond any doubt the rent of this house was exceptionally high, Eric mused as he hit the brass knocker against the door of the French Quarter villa. "Northman," he said, presenting his card when a servant opened. The butler was wearing a livery that made him look like a human that had lived during the lifetime of Marie Laveau, and Eric caught a glimpse of the entry hall over the man's shoulder. It was decorated to make the guests feel as if they were stepping right into the 19th century.

When the servant looked at him questioningly, Eric added: "I am invited." How easily he could have glamored him, but he didn't want to draw any attention to himself in case other vampires were present. He was proud to employ Xavier, the city's best concierge, and he paid the man royally. Eric's hotel guests valued the excellent concierge service, too – one of the reasons that made them return to the Quartier Royal every time they came to New Orleans.

Xavier had joyfully accepted the challenge of organizing an invitation to the most sought-after voodoo priestess in town. Adrienne Lavoisier's nightly show, or Voudon ceremony, as she called it, was booked months in advance. Only a small group of visitors were admitted every night, and if they were lucky enough – or paid very well, Lavoisier graced them with a private audience after the ritual she celebrated to "keep the balance of the spirit and the human world", as she declared.

Eric was led into a dark paneled gathering room, beautifully furnished with ornate, velvet-upholstered chairs and a small pedestal that was most probably used as a stage. The room was already crowded, mostly with tourists who were easily recognizable by their sneakers – most comfortable for a tour of the French Quarter that ended with a "real" voodoo ritual. They also smelled of fear mingled with excitement, and of sexual desire. After all, they were in the Big Easy.

He had used to hunt them for their blood now and then when he'd been new to the city, but had found soon that he preferred the exquisite taste of undiluted Creole blood. It was so hard to encounter since New Orleans had become a bright mixture of humans from all different cultures. Not that he cared about such delicacies anymore, knowing how Sookie tasted. But he would gladly have forfeited this pleasure forever, never to drink a single drop of her blood again if he could only have her back.

Some of Madame Lavoisier's guests were true believers in the occult who had come to see the legendary powers of their hostess. Others watched the still empty stage with desperation in their eyes. Maybe they hoped to talk to the ghost of someone they'd lost, or were searching for a remedy for an incurable illness. And some of them had just come to see a good show. The self-chosen title of "the new Marie Laveau" had made Adrienne Lavoisier very rich.

Tonight the voodoo priestess had promised to receive "special visitors" after the main ritual, and Eric had paid a large sum to be the first. Only a few chosen ones had the chance to be heard out by the Mamba – depending on her mood, or what the spirits told her. He took one of the seats in the last row, ignoring the admiring glances of several female humans as he sat down.

They were blessed not to know his inner thoughts, these innocent humans. His blind, painful rage made him wish he could rip each and every one of them apart and drain them dry, showing no mercy as he stilled his unquenchable thirst for blood and killing. For their own sake, they weren't aware of the predator he held so tightly under control, his willpower the only object that was standing between them and certain death.

With an explosion of smoke and the sound of mysterious voodoo drums – at least Madame Lavoisier had enough style to have her own band of African drummers in the back of the room – the woman in question appeared on the stage.

"Welcome to my house," she said. Her voice was low, yet so deep and clear that she could be heard throughout the room. "I feel that there are true believers among you, but also those who dare to doubt the power of the Loa, the dark gods of Voudon. But tonight you'll learn that it doesn't matter if you believe in them or not. They will know who you are, now that you are here and about to attend a ritual that will conjure the Old One's presence in our midst. Now go and leave, never to come back – or stay and be my witnesses."

Eric smiled to himself. She was a human about forty, with a coffee-and cream skin that betrayed her Caucasian features. Eric suspected that she had applied heavy make-up that gave her a Creole complexion, trying to look more like the Marie Laveau people only knew from a few simple paintings. Combined with a long black dress, a turban and shawl of orange-and-yellow silk, and a well-faked accent, it seemed to work for her fellow humans. Everyone wanted to believe that Marie Laveau had returned, risen from the dead to serve them with their magic powers.

The show Madame performed was everything tourists expected from a voodoo ritual. She chanted, danced to the rhythm of the drums and got herself into a trance, calling out to Damballah, the snake god. She picked several people from the audience and mentioned deceased family members, or the secret wish for money, health or a happy marriage. Obviously she'd been informed well about her guests – or had they claimed their wishes themselves when they had made the reservation, asking for a private audience? However, those snippets of knowledge were enough to convince her guests that she, indeed, was a true descendant of Marie Laveau, the voodoo queen of New Orleans.

Silently, he slipped out of his seat and headed to the smaller, adjacent room – the servant placed there had already told him that it was Adrienne's private audience room. It was decorated in a dark, gothic style, with African native art – weapons, statues and masks, and a large canopy bed hung with semi-transparent white curtains. There was a comfy leather chair – most probably for the guests, while the voodoo priestess lingered mysteriously on the bed – just like a queen receiving her subjects.

The only thing that surprised Eric in this room was a book shelf in one corner that was crammed with books. It only took him a glimpse to realize that these were old, rare volumes about different practices of voodoo and other Pagan religions. One of them he recognized, The Book of Voudon. It was a very old book which contained many long-forgotten spells of the priests who had brought their new religion to New Orleans, even before it mingled with the faith of the Catholic inhabitants of the city and became a mixture of different cultures. He knew that Gervais had been looking for this particular book for years, offering large sums to get it into his possession. He wondered how Madame Lavoisier had managed to keep it from him.

"Welcome, believer," a deep, female voice said from behind him. When he turned, Adrienne Lavoisier stood right behind him. He had been so immersed in thought that she had actually managed to sneak up behind him – a fact proving that his vampire senses were still affected by the drug.

As he turned around, she circled him once, eying him up and down. "Magnificent," she said, running a hand up his chest. "You are exceptionally old and strong for a vampire, Mr. Northman," she continued, doubtless knowing his name from the list of private visitors. Where were you born? You have a face that reminds me of Russian immigrants when the first of them came to my city, back in …"

"You can cease with your spectacle now, it doesn't affect me," he said coolly, pushing back her hand. "It is ridiculous how easily those humans allow themselves to be deceived. You're not even a real Creole."

Carefully she stepped back as her masterfully played façade vanished. Sighing, she pulled off her turban, revealing dark blonde hair that was pulled back into a tight chignon. She gestured to the servant who had silently followed her into the room. "You may go now," she said, "and send the other guests home. Just tell them I'm exhausted after tonight's ritual. They may come back tomorrow if they've paid for an audience." The servant nodded and closed the door behind him.

Sighing, Madame Lavoisier sat down at a mirrored table and began to remove the dark powder that concealed the too-delicate features of her face. "Please have a seat," she told Eric, but he began to pace the room instead.

"Tell me, new Marie Laveau," he said mockingly. "How did you manage to fool all of New Orleans, when even a blind man can see behind your charade?"

She didn't answer at once as she removed another layer of her theater make up and took out her brown contact lenses, placing them into a small plastic container. Her now-grey eyes met his in the mirror. "It's simple," she answered. "Knowledge. I know more about voodoo than anyone else in the city, except from the few real priests that still remained here after the flood. Since then, people have grown desperate to know what the future holds for them. Although you probably don't remember being human, people tend to seek for a faith to hold on to when fate strikes. Many of them are fascinated by the magical allure of voodoo since they feel betrayed by a God who allowed a disaster like that to happen to them. Is it wrong for me to give them back some of the hope they've lost?"

"And make a lot of money while you play the benefactor," Eric remarked dryly.

She laughed. "Of course. This is why I started all of this. My divorce made me lose everything. I had to sell my house to pay out my ex-husband, who didn't find it necessary to work while living with me."

Growling, Eric grabbed the neckline of her African dress and pulled her up from her chair to face him. He had to acknowledge that she didn't even flinch.

"I have no time for your little games," he said. "Tell me who you are, and what kind of business you are doing with Gervais? Where has he taken my … Sookie Stackhouse, the human woman that was abducted from my apartment?" He'd caught himself almost saying bonded, even if they hadn't taken that step yet. At that moment, he swore to himself to make good that fact as soon as he had his lover back.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. "You can't frighten me, vampire," she said. "It would be a relief for me if you'd kill me. My real name is Amy Neill. I am a college professor from Seattle, and my subject of study was Ancient Religions. I've been researching on voodoo since I was a student myself, gathering every scrap of knowledge I could find. I traveled to Haiti several times, to witness the rituals myself. It took me years until I was finally admitted to the inner circle and saw by which energy the priests were inhabited, what they could actually achieve. Then my marriage failed, and I suddenly found myself without the financial reserves that allowed me my frequent travels. When they threatened to take away my son, I took him to New Orleans to begin a new life. The need to make money brought me to this idea. Now I'm earning much more than in my best years at college."

"Charming," Eric growled, not releasing her. "But what made you practice magic for Gervais? Don't tell me that you didn't. I know that he bought the Devil's Hand root from you. Were you the one who helped to kill the dancer and the vampire in my bar?"

"No," she whispered, "I swear. I only studied the old texts and showed Gervais how to perform the ritual."

"Ritual – for which cause?"

"It is supposed to bring back loved ones from the dead," Adrienne said, her eyes nearly bulging out with fear. "Gervais had a human mistress … she was killed by a fever before he could turn her into a vampire. He wants her back. It's all he's been thinking about for over two hundred years, searching everywhere for a description of the ritual."

"Which you could provide," Eric said. "It's in the Book of Voudon, isn't it? Why didn't he just take the book from you?"

She grinned. "Because the spell itself is written in an ancient Haitian slang which I happen to be able to read. He doesn't. I only revealed tidbits to him, one ingredient after the other. But I knew that if I ever told him everything, he'd kill me right on the spot. So he tortured me to make me teach him what I know … but I wouldn't yield," she said, her eyes now showing an expression of deep agony. "I knew that if I did, it wouldn't only mean death for me, but for my son as well. He's only eight years old. His name is Henry."

Eric nodded. "And Gervais took him from you, didn't he?"

"Yes," she said, moving over to the window and blindly staring out. "It has been three weeks now. He has given me his word to bring back my boy as soon as the ritual is completed successfully. Gervais has a … let's say a friend, who wants this to succeed as badly as he does. She has lost someone, too. But when we tried to bring him back, the ritual went terribly wrong. He's imprisoned in a state between life and death – like a cruel caricature, only a shadow of the man he once was. Only when I searched another old text for a solution, I found that there had been something missing to complete the spell. A last ingredient. The ritual had been correctly brought to completion – but this one item would have given the magic enough power to succeed."

"Which ingredient?" Eric said, stepping up behind her.

"A sacrifice," she said absently. "Le coeur d'un v…"

The stained glass of the window shattered as a bullet broke through, hitting Adrienne's forehead. The priestess went down, killed right on the spot. The scent of her blood filled the room as another bullet went into Eric's shoulder. Cursing, he grabbed the Book of Voudon from the shelf and left the house so quickly that not even the servants caught a glimpse of him as he flew up into the starless sky.

*****

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com


	12. Chapter 12

I am already dead.

This was Sookie's only thought as she lay in the moldy darkness, eyes wide open. She had awoken a few minutes ago, feeling the moist, cold floor underneath her. Her head still throbbed from the drug they had forced down her throat.

After Eric had fallen asleep last night, she'd been wide awake, staring out of the window when she felt something reaching out to her – an unknown power that suddenly had gotten a hold of her whole being. It had felt like long, icy fingers wrapped around her heart, squeezing until she was paralyzed with fear. Her body refused to follow her own will, and she slowly rose and walked towards Eric's private elevator. Like a doll she had entered and pressed the button to the basement where a black Bentley was already waiting for her. Two of Gervais's men had seized her as soon as she'd left the elevator, blindfolded and tied her up before throwing her into the trunk of the car.

But this wasn't the worst part. Before she had left the penthouse, she'd taken a knife from the kitchen table and stepped into the bathroom. Cutting deep into the soft flesh of her arm, Sookie had dipped her finger into her own blood and written the message that was intended for Eric. Her hand had moved on its own, forced by an unknown power.

"If you try to find her, she's dead.

If you try to enter my house, she's dead.

Meet me tomorrow night at midnight at Marie Laveau's grave."

It had felt terrible not to be in control of her own body, to be controlled like a puppet. She had tried to fight with all her might, even attempted to call on her fairy powers, but as usual, they didn't follow her bidding.

Now, as she cautiously moved her limbs, she discovered that she could use them again, but also that her wrists and ankles were bound with a rope which only seemed to get tighter the more she tried to wriggle out of it. Her whole body hurt like hell after lying motionless on the cold stone floor – how long, she didn't know, maybe for hours. There was a soft rustling in the corners that sounded like a rat, and she shivered. Maybe it was looking for food and smelled the dried blood on her arm.

"Welcome, Mademoiselle Stackhouse," a female voice said, and a candle was lit. Sookie sat up abruptly, blinking into the light that was penetrating the darkness.

"It's you," she breathed. "Mama Valerie."

"Non," the woman answered, "that's not my real name." As she stepped out of the shadows into the light, she was hardly recognizable as the voodoo priestess who owned the small shop off Rue Dumaine. Standing proud and upright, she appeared much taller and younger, and she had changed her African clothes for an elegant white evening robe. Her hair fell in thick curls over her bare shoulders, and she flashed her white teeth at Sookie when she smiled.

"Marie Laveau, at your service," she said. Gesturing to her dress, she added, "I wanted to look my best tonight. After all, my husband will return to his former glory tonight. Together, we'll rule over New Orleans again." She lit more candles, padding on bare feet through the room, which was revealed to be a large underground chamber. There was some kind of ritual circle drawn into the middle of the crypt, enclosing a block of black basalt that seemed to serve as an altar. Stone slabs along the walls held the bones of long-deceased people. Sookie wondered if she would be among them very soon.

"Eric," she mouthed, closing her eyes and reaching out to him with her mind, but he seemed to be too far away. She didn't feel him close, but she was sure that he was still alive, at least.

"Oh, he will be with us in a while, ma chére," Marie said. "You invited him yourself, remember?"

"So this is your grave?" Sookie asked. "Shouldn't you be dead, anyway? For a hundred and thirty years, if I remember correctly."

Marie chuckled. "This was what I wanted people to believe. Certain circles had decided about my death, so at the time it was necessary to vanish. But I never ceased to watch over my city."

Sookie shook her head. "You're not a vampire." From time to time, she could hear fragments of the woman's thoughts, although she managed to keep them well-concealed.

"No. I'm still human. Let's just say that I made a deal with the dark gods. They prolonged my life until the time came for me to return."

"And their price for this honor?" Sookie asked dryly.

"Just a few human lives," Marie said. "Sacrifices for Damballah. They didn't matter in the larger context."

Sookie turned to a corner when she heard the rustling again. She gasped when she realized that it wasn't a rat as she had originally surmised. It looked like a young boy. Although he didn't utter a sound, he was tossing and turning on the ground, seemingly in agony.

"A child!" she shouted. "You evil bitch. You have taken a child!"

"He's not a child anymore," Marie answered, walking over to the boy and stroking his head. When he presently raised his head, reacting to the priestess's touch, his wild, crimson eyes glowed in the darkness. "He's my son now. Gervais turned him for me. He's still a newborn; his hunger causes him constant pain. You're lucky that I've just fed him."

"You turned a child into a vampire?" Sookie said, aghast. "But you're not. How will you …"

"As soon as my husband has reclaimed his full power, Gervais will turn us both, too. This way, we'll live together forever, as a family."

"And in return?"

"Marie will bring back what is rightfully mine," Gervais's voice came from the door. Soundlessly he had stepped into the room, carrying a large bundle of rags in his arms. Marie quickly picked up the boy and carried him outside, looking as if she wanted to protect him from Gervais. When Sookie turned to him, she saw that the bundle in his arms was the corpse of a woman, a shriveled, dark brown mummy that was clad in what looked like a bride's gown. The fabric was yellowed and torn in places, but it was still recognizable as a bride's dress, trimmed with layers of delicate, hand-bobbined lace. Wisps of once-auburn hair still crowned the body's head.

"Oh my God," Sookie whispered. "Don't tell me …"

"Yes," Gervais said, his gaze resting lovingly on his bride. "Her name is Emmeline Beauvier. She was a dancer at the opera ballet, and I loved her. She died only days before our wedding was to take place. A vampire came to her dressing room after the performance, probably to glamor and seduce her. She was the most beautiful woman this city had ever seen, and she could have had any man. But all she wanted … was me." His voice was rough with emotion, and Sookie didn't dare to breathe as he went on, more talking to himself than to her.

"He wasn't an inhabitant of this city, or he wouldn't have touched her. Every vampire in New Orleans knew that she was mine. Perhaps it hadn't even been his intention, but he killed her. She had been severely weakened by a previous illness. After the vampire left, she'd lost so much blood that she was too fragile to survive. It was over quickly, and I was out of town so I never had a chance to save her. The only thing left for me was to bury her in her wedding dress, swearing I'd find a way for us to be reunited. I spread the word that she'd died from a fever so the human authorities wouldn't ask too many questions and in the end, suspect me of killing her.

'By then, I'd learned who had done this to her, so I determined to have my revenge on him one day. When he came to do business here, I knew that it wasn't enough to kill him right then. I wanted him to suffer as much as I had suffered. So for a very long time, I was content with watching him from afar. I wanted to bereave him of what he loved most of all. Yet this task was more difficult than I had imagined. He never seemed to care about anything. Until now."

"Eric," Sookie whispered. "So this is all about him. The murders at Fangtasia …"

"Were the only thing that would intrigue him enough to bring him here. I knew how enticed he was by this human waitress I'd heard so much about, the girl with telepathic powers," he said, looking her up and down. "When he left for Sweden, I knew that drastic measurements were required to bring him back." He laughed, hugging his mistress's corpse to his chest. "By the time, my search for the right ritual had finally been successful.

'My friend, Adrienne Lavoisier, was a great help. When we first cast the spell, we thought we'd done everything right – all the right ingredients, a blood sacrifice of a human who was capable of magic …," he threw a glance at Sookie that made her shiver. "The ancient words that would call back the dead to the land of the living. But with time, we learned that there was a last ingredient needed to finish the transformation. When we first performed the ritual with Jacques's body, the spell turned out not to be strong enough. Instead of becoming a living, breathing human, he became a living dead. Something was missing."

He didn't finish the sentence, for the zombie had moved out of the shadows, entering through the door. Sookie cried out when she saw Eric following him, carrying a heavy, leather-bound book which he threw down to the floor, right at Gervais's feet.

"A last ingredient," Eric said calmly, looking at her for a moment. He checked if she was unharmed, then turned his full attention to Gervais. The younger vampire had gently placed the female corpse onto the basalt block while Jacques lay down at her side like a bridegroom. Sookie threw a glance at the gruesome couple and quickly averted her eyes. She hadn't been aware of Marie Laveau coming up behind her until the woman grabbed her bound wrists and forced her to crawl towards the ritual circle. She had no choice but to comply if she didn't want to be dragged across the floor. The priestess was astonishingly strong considering her age, and she didn't release Sookie until she sat beside the altar, her back resting against the cool black stone. A tear ran down her cheek when the Mamba began to chant, moving around and sprinkling a red powder along the boundaries of the magic circle.

"I know what it is," Eric said, throwing down the Book of Voudon at Gervais's feet. "It's all here in this text, isn't it? You just were too stupid to decipher the old script. Adrienne never told you what it was. It was some kind of insurance to her, the only thing that kept her alive while you questioned her. Well, I can read this myself. And I will provide you with your ingredient … as soon as you agree to set her free. I need even more than that. I want your blood oath that she'll live and be free to leave this city."

Gervais growled, drawing nearer. "What is it? Tell me."

Eric grinned. "If you had known, you could have proved your love to this … corpse long ago." He nodded towards the block, and Gervais hissed at the insult, baring his teeth. "All you need to do is to cut open your chest and feed her your heart as soon as she takes her first breath again."

Gervaise's eyes widened, and Eric nodded. "Oh yes. Le coeur d'un vampire."

"The heart of a vampire," Sookie whispered, for this one time cursing that she had signed up to the French program at school. "Eric, no …"

"You can't act against the blood oath, even after I have met the True Death," Eric said. "Our blood will be united. "You can't act against it, ever. Simply blackmailing me by threatening Sookie wouldn't work, you know. The sacrifice has to be given out of free will. I'll have to cut my heart out myself and offer it to your awakening woman. You'd know this if you'd been able to read the book. It will be my just punishment for killing your bride, something that was never my intention. However, you'll allow Sookie to leave. She wasn't even born when all this happened."

Sookie closed her eyes and began to cry, sending out silent pleas to Eric.

Please, beloved, don't sacrifice yourself for me. I'm dead anyway. How could I ever live without you?

But Eric had closed off his mind to her, keeping her from interfering with his plans. Desperately, she tried to break through the barrier he had erected between them. But his powers were too strong, and she was already weakened by the drugs she had been given.

"I believe we have an understanding," Gervais said, biting his wrist and holding it out to Eric, who drank from it before opening his own vein and offering it to the Creole. The vampires didn't enjoy the experience very much, judging from the shiver of disgust that ran through Eric's body.

"Now we are one," Eric said when Gervais released his arm, wiping his mouth. "Swear."

"After you have given your heart to Emmeline and she eats one half, giving the other to Jacques, Sookie will be free to leave, safe and unharmed. I swear I'll never bother her again. I'll even send her my best wishes when she finds another human to share her short life with, and bears his children. Soon she will have forgotten all about you, anyway," he said with a gentle smile, clearly enjoying the pain in his enemy's eyes before Eric could hide it.

Sookie gasped when a sharp pain pierced her forearm. Marie had protruded a ceremonial knife and cut deep into her flesh, gathering her blood in a goblet. All the while she was chanting words that hadn't been heard on this earth for centuries. She dipped her finger in Sookie's blood and smeared symbols on her brow and cheeks, smiling cheerfully. Lowering the goblet, she poured a few drops into her husband's mouth, then into the mummy's, drawing more symbols into the air above both of their bodies.

The zombie swallowed the blood greedily, groaning with delight. His body began to change as strength flowed into his body, drawn from the deepest bowels of the earth. His shriveled skin tightened and turned into a velvety chocolate brown, and his distorted limbs moved into their new position as his bones rearranged themselves. Jacques moaned with pain, but his eyes gleamed when life raced through him, and his heart beat with renewed vigor.

After a while, Gervais's bride showed signs of life as well, first only a slight jerk of a finger which made her lover cry out with joy. Eric had stepped up into the magic circle as well, ignoring Sookie as she stretched out her bound hands and grabbed his leg, sobbing, begging him to leave. For the briefest moment, he opened the bond and sent her a surge of love that made her tremble from its sheer power, but he shut it down before she could react.

With Gervais and Marie flanking him, Eric ripped open his shirt before he grabbed the dagger with both hands, looking down into Sookie's pleading eyes for one last time. A small notebook fell out of his breast pocket and landed on the floor with a thud that seemed to echo in the hollow chamber.

Then he turned the tip of the blade to his chest, drawing a thin line of blood when it broke through the skin. The zombies on the block writhed and wriggled when they smelled his powerful blood, their lips opening and closing with sickening sounds since they craved the substance that would bring them back to life. A heart that wasn't beating like their own, but old, strong and filled with a will to live that would give them the power to return.

Again and again, Sookie called his name, crying out her agony as she dragged herself nearer and wrapped herself around his legs, refusing to let go while he died. The voodoo priestess laughed at the human's foolishness, the ugly sound of her laughter mingling with Sookie's suffocated sobs.

"Gervais, I forgot to tell you something," Eric said suddenly. "Marie knew all along what the last ingredient was. I found it in her little notebook – the one I just dropped to the floor. Without a doubt she intended to keep this little detail from you until she could perform the ritual behind your back, without you. She wanted her husband to eat the whole heart to enhance his chance of living, not wanting to share. The only reason she used you was that she needed your help to lure me to New Orleans and abduct Sookie so I would give her my heart willingly. I'm old and strong, so with me she had the best chance to resurrect Jacques to full humanity."

Sookie raised her head and stared, disbelievingly, when Gervais turned to Marie, his eyes aflame with fury. "You tried … to betray me?" he hissed, barely able to contain his anger.

"He lies," Marie spat out. "He just wants to save his own worthless life. Don't listen to him."

"Tell me, Gervais, at what time did Marie tell you to come to this crypt tonight?" Eric asked.

Gervais was aghast. "Why, an hour after midnight," he said. "Exactly like in the message Marie made your human leave for you."

"The message said midnight," Eric corrected him. "But you came earlier, didn't you? In your eagerness to see her alive again, you couldn't wait to bring your bride down here."

"That's right," Gervais murmured. "But she'll make up for it, I'm sure. Marie, we'll just revive my betrothed tonight. She needs all of the strength Eric's heart can give her. Your husband can wait for another time. I quite like him the way he is right now. He's a very useful puppet, don't you think? Or should I rip his head off right away, should you refuse to finish the ritual?"

With a scream, Marie leapt at him. She was holding a short wooden stake she had hidden beneath her dress, strapped to her thigh. Gervais went down in a mass of blood, flesh and bowels, drenching Sookie who crouched at Eric's feet. She was holding on to him as she prayed that it wasn't him who was dying. It all happened too quickly for her to comprehend. In the same moment as Gervais met his true death, Eric ripped out Marie Laveau's heart and beheaded both of the zombies that were trying to rise from their bed of stone, hungrily devouring the blood that spilled down on them, the blood of their own lovers.

"I've always hated this voodoo crap," Eric remarked.

Kneeling down, he gathered his trembling human in his arms and removed the rope that held her imprisoned. Then he started to kiss her desperately, gently wiping the blood from her face. Sookie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. "Eric, Eric," she whispered when she finally drew back and framed his face with her hands, scanning his features as if she wanted to convince herself that he was really there. He pulled her to his body and held her, savoring the feel of her in his arms. "Yes, I'm here," he said. "Did you really think I'd yield to Gervais and simply give up?"

She shook her head. "But you would have died for me, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he said, locking his eyes with hers. "I would. I'll always be ready to give my life for you. Haven't you realized how much you mean to me? You are a part of me, my love, my life. Without you, everything is meaningless."

"A world without you wouldn't be worth anything for me, either," she whispered, placing her hand on his chest. "I would have begged Gervais to kill me if you'd given him your heart. It's mine, you know."

He laughed, that deep, warm chuckle that was so typically Eric. "So greedy tonight, my Sookie?" he said. "If so, you can have all of me once we're back in the penthouse – or rather, what's still left of it."

Sookie jumped to her feet as she remembered the boy that Marie had held captive. "Eric," she said breathlessly. "There's a child down here. Marie Laveau kidnapped him to make him her own son. I fear Gervais has already turned him into a vampire."

Eric narrowed his eyes. "I regret that I killed him already. I'd love to do it much more slowly, considering that he has turned a child. This must be Henry, Adrienne Lavoisier's son. Unfortunately his mother is dead, killed by someone Gervais hired. Usually, such young vampires don't survive very long, unless they are under the protection of a strong maker who watches them constantly."

"But Eric, who …"

He silenced her with a tender kiss. "Don't worry about it now, lover. Henry isn't a child anymore. He's a newborn vampire, and I have trustworthy friends here in New Orleans who will take care of him. Now let's find him and get the hell out of this damned place."

As Eric had promised, Henry was safe now. The boy had been unconscious when they finally found him in the catacombs, not far from Marie's crypt. Eric and Sookie brought him to a group of vampires working in Eric's hotel. They would watch over Henry, teach him to survive and to feed without killing. Sookie's heart went out to him, but she understood that as a human, she'd never been able to care for him on her own, neither could any human parents who might have wanted to raise him.

An hour later, they were back at the penthouse. Eric had activated the light-proof safety shutters and retreated with Sookie to his bedroom. The repairs of the apartment would have to wait until tomorrow. After a quick shower, Sookie was still in a slight state of shock, sitting upright in his bed. Her body was shaking, and she was suffering withdrawal symptoms of the drugs she had been given. Quickly undressing, he lay down at her side and drew her into his arms. "Sleep now, my lover," he said. "We'll return to Bon Temps tomorrow. Would you like that? Or would you prefer to fly back to Öland?"

She rested her head upon his chest. "Honestly, I don't care as long as you're with me. But I'd like to go home for a while, to my house, just to see if everything's in order and if Jason and my friends are well. Afterwards, I'm not sure what to do. Everything seems to have changed since …"

"Since we realized we love each other," Eric finished the sentence for her as he turned her onto her back with a sudden twist of his body. Then his lips began to sear a path down her neck while his hands found their way under her bathing robe, slowly opening it.

Sookie closed her eyes. "Didn't you just tell me to sleep?"

"I changed my mind," he said between kisses, turning his attention to the valley between her breasts now. "Do you feel the need to sleep, my exhausted human?"

She giggled, shifting a bit so he could reach her hardened peak with his mouth. "Not really," she admitted, forgetting the rest of her words when he closed his lips around her, suckling at her sensitive flesh. She moaned when he began to play her with his tongue, sending a path of liquid fire down her stomach, right into the core of her desire. Instinctively wrapping her legs around his muscular thighs, she raised her lower body to rub against him, showing him what she needed. She felt moisture gathering between the flushed folds of her womanhood, and she ached for him to take her.

"Eric," she whispered, pleadingly. She had to become one with him, feel him moving deep inside her body. Tonight, she'd nearly lost him once again, without being able to help him. If she was immortal like him, she wouldn't be as vulnerable and weak, constantly bringing him into danger because of her own vulnerability. Being human meant that she'd always be his weakness, an easy goal for whoever wished to harm him. Maybe she'd be ready to consider an alternative soon, if it meant to be with him forever. But she wouldn't think about this now, when all she wanted was to feel alive.

Her Viking didn't need another invitation and slipped right into her like a hand into a perfectly-fitting glove. They both moaned at the exquisite sensation of being joined at last, after all the fear they'd felt for each other. When he pressed his brow against hers for a moment, savoring the feel of being enclosed by her warm, moist body, she could listen to his thoughts again, and joy filled her heart, for he loved her more than she'd ever believed possible.

Then Eric moved deep inside her, and all thoughts were driven away by a bright flash of boundless desire that consumed her. Crying out his name, she began to rock her hips against him, meeting each and every one of his mighty thrusts with equal ferocity. There was no desire for tenderness as she clawed at his back, driving him into a wild frenzy as he loved her, took her with a primal urge to possess her, claim her as his own.

He didn't hesitate when she tilted her head to the side, offering him her neck. Smiling, her vampire extracted his fangs to their full length and bit. Sookie cried out, meeting the rhythmic strokes of his hips while he drank deeply, groaning with delight. Forcing himself to stop feasting on her blood, he pierced the smooth skin of his inner arm, offering her a taste of his own. While she grabbed his shoulder and latched on the bite marks, he drew back and came, his final thrusts so powerful that they drove her over the edge, too, and she convulsed around him, taken away by glorious waves of splendor. As she was gradually drifting down from the heavens, she languidly sucked his delicious blood, still shuddering with the small shocks of her aftermath. The weight of his strong body on hers felt exquisite, and she kept teasing him with her inner muscles as long as he stayed in her, still slowly moving. Then she drew back and cleaned his arm with small laps of her tongue until his wound had closed by itself. Chuckling, Eric rolled over to his side, taking her with her.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you behave more like a vampire than a human, Sookie Stackhouse," he said. "Probably caused by my bad influence on you."

"Or maybe it's because you are the most human vampire I've ever met, Eric Northman," she answered before she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him with a passion that made him love her all over again.

Right at that moment, Sookie didn't know that she was making love to the newly elected Vampire King of Louisiana, and if she had, she almost certainly wouldn't have cared. All she knew was that Eric was hers, and every other story would have to wait until much, much later.

*****

This story is dedicated to the people of New Orleans, who are still struggling to recover from Hurricane Katrina.

*****

© All characters are the property of Charlaine Harris and True blood HBO. No copyright infringement is intended. No monetary compensation is gained. Used for entertainment purposes only.

Originally, this story was written for the most awesome True Blood site on the net, EricandSookieLovers Dot Com. If you like my story, check out my other books on Amazon, "Bound to the Prince", a fantasy/paranormal romance, and "House of Pleasure", an erotic novella. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! I love reading your reviews.

xoxoxo Warmest regards, Deborah

Visit me on my website, DeborahCourt Dot Com

Dear Readers,

Thank you for all your love and wonderful comments you left me for both my stories! I hope you enjoyed them, and that I could help you forget your disappointment caused by the outcome of Season 4 just a little bit. Very special thanks to my editor Lynette Sofras, and to Erika from EricandSookieLovers. Please keep up the wonderful work with our favorite site for all of our Eric&Sookie needs and longings.


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